


Demons and Lovers

by Tipper



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, F/M, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1121895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipper/pseuds/Tipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Buck, JD and Ezra return from Red Fork battered and near beaten, things just get worse as frayed nerves, exhaustion and an unexpected romance strain Buck and Ezra's friendship to near breaking.  It's all JD can do to keep the peace. Then some bad guys come to town looking to take advantage of an under-protected Four Corners.  If Buck and Ezra don't break out of their funks in time, it could mean JD's head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Red Fork Haze

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very old story that I've revised and am posting here for the first time. It's also a rare het fic from me. I'm a Gen/canon writer mostly, but the show ended, and I'd always sort of hoped that the sweet little spark between Ezra and Inez from her first episode (when she cajoled him into hiring her) would grow. So, I took a stab at relighting it. So, there's some mild het.

A hush fell over the tavern, causing Inez to look up from where she'd been reading the Clarion at the bar. A few of her customers had moved to stand by the window, and soon the rest followed, filling the room with an air of anticipation. Tucking a stray lock of hair behind an ear, she closed the paper and made her way over to the batwing doors, squinting a little into the brighter light of late afternoon. Her breath hitched as she saw what everyone was looking at. 

_What had happened to them?_

About a week ago, the judge had wired for the Seven’s help to protect a couple of witnesses in the town of Red Fork. The two young teenagers, both barely thirteen, had been unwitting observers of a wagon train massacre by a gang of rustlers and rogue Apaches, and had bravely come forward to testify after the gang was caught. Unfortunately, part of the gang had escaped from the marshals assigned to hold them and the Judge had been afraid they would return to seek vengeance not just on the two children, but on the town. From the looks of the men returning, the Judge had been right.

JD rode in front, his face solemn, an unusual mantle of authority hanging on his shoulders as he led the others. Behind him, a little to the right, Buck rode his Gray, the gunslinger staring listlessly at the road, his mind clearly miles away. One arm hung in a sling, and his hat was missing.

Behind them, Ezra was guiding a covered wagon, snapping the reins and frowning deeply. While he looked uninjured, his jacket was missing and dried blood caked on the white sleeves of his normally pristine shirt. To the back, Inez could see three more horses following slowly, tied to wagon—she knew they were Ezra's, Nathan's and Josiah's. But where were the others?

Pushing open the doors, the manageress stepped outside, the others inside following her out into the cold air. Opposite, she spotted Mary stepping forward off the boardwalk. JD pulled up in front of her, and motioned for the others to keep moving on to the clinic. They needed no prompting, and Buck didn’t even look up as he passed. Ezra’s eyes, however, glanced once towards the saloon as if looking for someone. When he caught her eyes, he smiled lightly in hello. She took another step forward, but the wagon was already moving on.

She breathed out heavily when she saw the back of it--Josiah sat on the edge, one leg hung loosely over the side. The preacher wore a bandage around his head and a bloody tourniquet around one thigh, but he seemed unaware of his injuries. Instead, he was watching whomever it was he was caring for inside the wagon. All Inez could see were a pair of feet.

She glanced at Seth, made a motion for him to cover the bar, and he nodded. Picking up her skirts, she walked across the street to join the little knot that had formed around Mary and JD. Yosemite had already taken JD's horse, the young man speaking softly as he shook travel dust out of his hat and ran a hand through his shaggy hair. Inez caught the edge of Mary's last question to the young man.

"…Chris and Vin?" 

“They’re fine, Mrs. Travis,” the sheriff answered, his voice thick with exhaustion. “They’re escorting the Judge over to Greeley, for another trial. They should be home day after tomorrow. As to what happened…" He sighed. "As usual, your father-in-law was right. The missing gang members recruited a bunch of outlaws to help break their friends out of jail. They were fast, and though we were on alert, they got past our defenses. Turned out they had the help of the deputy—who released the gang members in jail—and the livery owner—who nearly killed all our horses when he lit the hostelry on fire. All hell broke loose after that, and though we managed to contain the fires, save the witnesses and the town…” He waved at the wagon, now parked in front of the clinic. Nathan was the one who'd been badly hurt, the young healer clearly unconscious as they gently pulled him from the back. Ezra had recruited some help in carrying Nathan upstairs, as both Josiah and Buck were obviously in no condition to do more than just look on. JD looked back at Mary. “Nathan nearly died, and Josiah and Buck were both badly hurt. Even the Judge got swiped in the arm.” He grimaced as he saw Mary’s eyes widen with worry. “No, no, he’s fine. Just a graze—he was lucky.” 

Mary nodded, closing her eyes briefly, and looked in the direction of the clinic. Inez did as well, watching as Josiah now slowly made his way up the clinic stairs, while Buck sat down at the base, rubbing his face with his hand.

“Are they going to be alright?” Inez asked softly.

“Yeah. Should be. Vin took care of everyone, got ‘em stitched up n' all. Me n' Ezra've been acting nursemaid since we set out. When Nathan was awake, he told us how to make those foul smelling poultices of his, the ones that stave of infection. They seem to be working.” He smiled, his shoe scuffing the ground. “Ezra's probably going to watch 'em for a while, then I'll—" 

“Oh, don't be foolish,” Mary said, still watching the clinic. "We can do that." Her gaze caught Inez's as she spoke, and Inez nodded perfunctorily. That same gaze of Mary's caught several others, and soon there were a number of "sure thing," and "happy to helps" echoing softly over JD.

“Thank you, that's….We'd be much obliged," JD said, smiling at everyone. "Ezra's been doing most of the work, so I know he needs a break. Took on that responsibility after he…” He stopped, and imitated one of Chris’s expressions, pursing his lips. “Anyway, he needs a break.” 

Mary touched his arm gently. "Of course. And so do you."

“You have any trouble while we were gone?” the kid asked.

“No. It's been quiet. I imagine it'll be quiet a while longer, so go on and get some sleep."

He clearly didn't need to be told twice, giving her and the others one more grateful smile. Thanking the everyone one more time, he shuffled off towards the boarding house. Upon his departure, the crowd dispersed, still whispering amongst themselves.

"Do you need anything from me?" Inez asked Mary, as the other woman turned to leave. Mary paused, and then gave a nod.

"I think Sarah and I can take care of Nathan and Josiah for now, and possibly Buck. But I'll make sure to send Ezra your way soon—maybe you can make sure he's fed and gets some rest?"

"Of course. I'll take care of him."

Mary's smile deepened. "I'm sure you will."

Inez blinked, not sure how to take that, and couldn't stop a blush. Mary's eyes widened slightly.

"Oh, no, that came out wrong. I know Buck is…." Mary snapped her mouth shut, and blushed as well. "I'm sorry. I'm talking nonsense. I only meant that you and Ezra are good friends. I'm sure you missed having him at the saloon."

"I am and I did," Inez agreed, still blushing. She turned away then, not wanting to see Mary's too clever gaze on her any more than that. Quickly, she headed back to the saloon, gathering her shawl a bit tighter around her shoulders. When she looked back out at the street again, she saw Mary walking into the Potter’s, then coming back out with Sarah Weathers. Together the two women headed for the clinic, Sarah with a bundle of food under one arm. Mary gave Inez a nod as she went past, and Inez returned it with a smile.

It's true—Ezra was her friend, same as Buck. But it was Ezra whom she spent the most time with, besides Seth, and she worried about him. When she'd first arrived, he'd been a perfect gentlemen to her after Buck had made his interest known. And she'd appreciated it, appreciated how he treated her as an equal, like a friend, not as a mere woman. Men didn't do that as a rule. And she'd appreciated his discretion when she'd thought that Buck might be someone special for her as well. But Buck's ardor came and went—his gaze had strayed to others, particularly to that red-headed senorita who'd visited with the former governor. He had never looked at Inez that way and probably never would, and that had hurt for a time. But Ezra's friendship, his care for her, it had never changed. If anything, it had grown stronger since he'd moved in to the saloon. And…And, well, as Mary had said, she missed having Ezra around. 

The sound of a wagon broke her reverie, and she looked over to see the supply wagon from Bitter Creek pulling up in front of Potter's. She saw the name on the side of a couple of the crates and grinned--the supplies she’d ordered from Mrs. Potter must have finally arrived. Calling back inside the saloon to tell Seth that the boxes had finally come, she headed across to the mercantile.  
_____________________________

Buck looked up, his eyes watching Inez as she made her way across the road, her face lit with a grin. She must have felt his gaze, because she looked across and smiled at him, giving him a wave. 

“Hello to you too, senorita,” he whispered. God, it was good to be home. 

Feeling slightly more chipper, he got to his feet and made his way over to the saloon. He knew he should have followed JD to the boarding house, but he needed the company of a happier folk for a while, and few folk made him happier than Inez, especially when she was rebuffing his charms. He’d win her someday, he knew. It was just a matter of time. Until then, he knew there would be some other warm bodies in the saloon to remind him of his continuing healthiness, broken arm or no.

He passed by Mary and Sarah as they headed towards the clinic, gracing them with a big smile.

"You look like someone's lit a fire under you, Mr. Wilmington," Mary said, matching his smile with one of her own.

“I just forgot how good it was to be alive, Mrs. Travis,” he grinned back, adding a little dance step to the movement. Mary chuckled as Buck continued on, the rogue already planning on gaining as many sympathy kisses as he could from the saloon girls.  
___________________________

Ezra finished explaining what to do for Josiah and Nathan, not noticing that Mary was barely paying attention. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she knew already—who did he think helped Nathan when they were hurt? But she could see the tight grip he had on the bed frame, preventing him from losing his fight with exhaustion. Off to the side, Sarah was checking on Josiah, who was snoring loudly on his cot. 

“Thank you, Mr. Standish. I’ll come and get you if there is any change,” the newspaper editor said, her tone placating. Ezra nodded, catching the tone. She wanted rid of him. He ducked his head, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Thank you Mary, Sarah. I’ll be in my room if you need me.” He bowed slightly, and both woman offered slight smiles in return as he slipped out of the room. 

With a slightly dazed air, he navigated the steps out down from Nathan’s clinic slowly, looking up at the warm spring day with a smile. A breeze tickled his skin, bringing with it the smell of fresh hay and smelting ore from Yosemite’s livery as he headed across to the boardwalk. Thankfully, the man must have mucked it out recently. Ezra’s grin widened; Chaucer would be happy. Perhaps he should go see him before going to his room. Leaning against a handy post, he lowered his head and closed his eyes, content for a moment simply to listen to the sounds of the town--to his home.

He’d been standing on the boardwalk contemplating the idea of visiting Chaucer for a while before he heard the gentle clearing of someone’s throat. He blinked his eyes open rapidly, startled to realize he’d nearly fallen asleep standing up. When they cleared, he found himself looking into the eyes of Inez. She adjusted the crates resting in her arms to a more comfortable position.

“Senor?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Do you need me to take you home? You look like you should be lying down.”

“Why, Ms. Recillos,” he replied, his face shining with innocence, “are you offering to take me to bed?” He flexed an eyebrow and Inez narrowed her eyes. She took a step closer to him.

“In the state you’re in, Ezra,” she whispered, “you’d never keep up.” She gave him a wink, and he started to laugh.

“My dear, you shame me!” Grinning now, he looked at the heavy boxes in her arms, wondering how she managed to keep them balanced without completely tipping over. “Can I give you a hand?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she replied. “You’d fall over if I gave you one of these. Some of these boxes contain replacement glasses for the saloon.” She smiled, “And I don’t relish having them broken in just yet.”

Ezra winced. “A terrible pun, Inez. But I assure you,” he lifted off the top two boxes with a grunt, “I am more than capable.” He was impressed, they were heavy. 

“You alright?” she asked, noting his grunt. He just lifted his eyebrows, then indicated with a nod that she lead the way.

With a shrug, she readjusted her remaining package and turned away toward the saloon, the gambler on her heels. 

They both nodded to Seth as they walked in through the batwing doors, who returned the greeting absently. In the corner, Buck looked up from where he sat with Cherise, who was massaging his shoulders. Ezra nodded at him, but Buck could only respond with a dark glower. Ezra's good mood disappeared instantly, and he quickened his step to get around Inez and to the back. 

Sure, Buck had—somewhat reluctantly--told him that he knew what had happened wasn't Ezra’s fault, but it didn't mean Buck wasn't still furious with him. Josiah had tried to tell Ezra that it was just Buck's way of dealing with the situation, and he would calm down once his irrational side stopped being in control. Thing was, Ezra wasn't sure Buck was being irrational. All of the others had been cold to him since Nathan was hurt, save JD, and he couldn't blame them. He'd made a mistake, and he had no idea how to fix it.

Inez waited as Ezra muscled the heavy storeroom door open with a shoulder, the thick wood scraping the floor with a painful squeal. Once open, it would remain stuck ajar until someone manhandled it closed again. The only bonus of it was that no one could break in without Inez or Seth hearing. 

Once inside the dank room, Ezra dumped his box on the central table and moved to light the candles. Inez put hers down opposite his and pulled a knife to cut away at the twine. Neither spoke as they ripped the boxes open and started to put bottles, cans and glasses away. Ezra stopped only once to admire the quality of the new mugs he’d been carrying, impressed by their weight and quality. 

“I got a deal,” Inez said from where she was reaching up to place some cans on the top shelf. “A dozen for a dollar. Not bad, eh? You were getting half a dozen for the same, and those are better. Less likely to break.” 

Ezra shook his head, once more impressed at how easily she could read his mind. With a sigh, he held the mug close to his body and leaned against the table. His mind drifting off to the time when he owned this saloon, albeit for only a short time, and then to other matters. Soon, he was completely lost in his thoughts, their meanderings bringing him to the misery of the last week.

_______________________________

Inez put the last can away and turned around. For a moment, she just stood and watched Ezra, never having seen such an open look of pain on his face. It hurt to see him like this, so unlike his usual self, and the fact that he was letting her see it made it worse. Slowly, she made her way across, and reached her hand out slowly to lift the mug from his hands. He jumped slightly at her touch, then slumped his shoulders, his hands moving back to grip the edge of the table behind him. Gently, she placed the glass on the table, then allowed her fingers to drift over to rest on top of his right hand.

“What happened?” she whispered, hoping he’d lift his gaze from the floor to look at her. He didn’t comply.

“Nothing. I was only daydreaming.”

“No,” she pressed a little harder on his hand. “I mean, what happened in Red Fork.”

He shook his head. “Inez, you don’t want--”

“Yes, I do. You need to talk about it.” She touched a finger to his chin, lifting it. “Please. Let me help.” 

Ezra’s face crumpled, and he pulled away from her touch. “You can’t help.”

“Not if you won’t tell me. I saw the look Buck threw you out there—he's furious with you, isn't he?” 

She waited, but Ezra didn't want to answer. Inez, however, knew the meaning of the word "persistent."

"Tell me," she said, practically making it an order this time.

He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. “Fine. You want to know? Nathan…Nathan almost died, Inez,” he swallowed. ‘Nathan almost died and it was my fault.”

Instead of immediately dismissing that idea as foolish, which she knew would only cause him to turn away from her, she nodded. “How?”

This time he did look at her, squinting at her in the poorly lit stockroom, and she realized his eyes were wet. “It happened so quickly, I barely even recall how, only….” He stopped, licking his lips and looking down at the floor again.

“Nathan and I were assigned to protect the witnesses and the Judge. We were on the way to the grain exchange, where the trial was to be held, when the gunfire broke loose. I couldn't see the others who were supposed to be keeping an eye on us; I didn't know what had happened to them. It wasn't until later that I learned there had been a fire in the livery and the breakout at the jail. All I knew was that we had to get the two children and Judge Travis to some sort or cover. Then a lucky shot winged the Judge’s shooting arm, knocking his rifle from his hand. Nathan yelled that he would cover us, to give me enough time to get the others away. I should never have agreed.” He paused, and bit his bottom lip. Inez gripped his hand a little tighter.

“I take it someone shot him,” she said.

“I had just gotten to cover when I saw him go down. But I couldn't get to him. I was the only one between the Judge and those children and the guns. I couldn't break cover to get to him, or they would have been unprotected. My God, but he looked at me from where he was on the ground, Inez, pleading for me to help him as he gripped his shoulder. Then that behemoth came.” He shook slightly, spitting out the word behemoth with a heavy dose of acerbity.

“Behemoth?” 

“Brute. Beast. Monster. Ugly, huge, and nasty. Nathan’s height, and Josiah’s girth. He came out of nowhere and picked up Nathan like a rag doll, shaking the poor man as a means to get rid of his anger. I tried to take a shot, but he put Nathan between himself and me, and then I had to keep firing in other directions as gang members started attacking from all sides. I couldn't cover them all, Inez. I had to make a choice--I couldn't help Nathan without….” He placed his free hand on his face, covering his eyes, and Inez frowned. 

She’d never seen him like this. Ezra and the other six were the most self-assured men she had ever met, even against impossible odds, and yet, here he was, admitting to her that, for a moment, he had been absolutely terrified. She crept a little closer, taking more of his hand in hers. He was shaking his head now, as if to clear it, lifting the hat off of his head to place it on the table. With his free hand, he ran it through his thick hair, rumpling it slightly. 

“Thank God for Buck,” Ezra said suddenly, quietly. “He came charging like a bear out from the alleyway, knocking that ugly bastard off his feet. He saved Nathan’s life, and sprained his shoulder in the process by throwing a man one and a half times his weight on his head,” he chuckled. “Remind me never to get on Buck’s bad side,” he said, looking at her with a rueful grin. His smile fell before her unwavering gaze, and he looked away. "Actually, he's barely spoken to me since...since it happened."

"He blames you for Nathan getting hurt?"

"I was right there," he said. "I should have been able to help Nathan, but I didn't and...and Nathan...." He shook his head. "I didn't have his back, and the others know it. They...they've all said they understood why I couldn't leave the kids and the judge, covering the lie by expressing no more feeling on the matter than they would a day at the lake, but you know that Buck doesn't hide his emotions as well as the others. And for all their machinations, I know the others feel the same. And they're right. They're right to hate me. I could see how relieved Chris and Vin were to ride away with the Judge, happy to forget about my mistake for a week. Josiah won't even look at me. Nathan is his best friend and I...I failed him. Only JD and Nathan haven't been cold, and Nathan only because he’d been asleep most of the time." He pulled his hand from hers, wrapping his arms around his body. "I screwed up really badly this time, Inez. I don't know how to fix it."

Inez could feel him trembling now, lifting her hands to rest on his crossed arms. He shook her off, backing into the table more, arms falling to his sides to grip the edge of the table again. 

“At the end of the day," he finished, his voice rough now, "it was Buck who got Nathan to safety, and, not long after, the firing stopped as the rest of the gang was brought down.”

She gave a nod. “So you saved those kids and the Judge?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, looking away. "Yeah, they were fine."

“Then…then you saved those kids and the Judge,” she repeated. He shook his head. Pressing her lips together in a determined expression, she stepped forward, moving her hand from his hand to his arm. Grabbing his chin in her other hand, she forced him to look her in the eye.

“Ezra, listen to me. You're looking at this from the wrong angle. You protected the kids and the Judge. You did what you had to. Nathan did what he had to. You can’t be everywhere at once. You know that. If you had broken cover to help Nathan, leaving those three innocents without protection, what would have happened?”

Like a child refusing to admit the truth, he shrugged.

“You know, Ezra. Can you honestly tell me they would have survived without you there?"

"They had good cover, they might have..."

"They were _children._ You couldn't break cover because you were being fired upon from all sides, is that right? If you hadn't been keeping the bandits back, what would have happened to them? To the judge?"

"I don't know."

"Yes, you do. You're wrong, in that moment, you had no choice. What happened was a terrible thing, but you had no choice.”

“That man had Nathan by the _throat_. He was throttling him—I could see his lips turning blue. If Buck hadn't been there…” He shut his eyes, and she loosed his chin to place her hand on his chest. 

“But Senor Wilmington was there. That was what he was supposed to be doing, yes? Making sure you and Nathan were protected as you, in turn, protected those children and the Judge? If it is anyone’s fault, Ezra, it is his for not being there to cover you from the beginning.”

Ezra’ eyes widened, and he frowned. “No, absolutely not! Don’t you dare accuse Buck of doing something wrong! He couldn’t be there.”

Inez tilted her head. “You’re right,” she whispered. “He did nothing wrong. And neither did you, for the same reason. Do you see?”

Ezra didn’t answer, instead he just looked at her, as if unable to tear his eyes from hers. She looked at her hand on his chest, fingering the soft material of the brocade waistcoat.

“Ezra Standish, whether you realize it or not, I know you. I knew you from the minute I walked in those doors over a year and a half ago. You think you are the only one who can read people? Believe me when I tell you, I have had many years to learn what an evil man, a selfish man, or a cowardly man looks like. I grew up around them, was beaten by them. Do you honestly think that I would have tried to become your partner if I had seen any of those qualities in you? I could have looked for work anywhere, but I chose _you_.”

When he didn’t answer, she reached up to rest her hand gently on his face, brushing her fingers along his cheekbone, then up over his temple, brushing back a dark curl. “You are a good man, Ezra. The others, they know this. Even Buck. You’ll see. I predict that, in a couple of days, when Senors Larabee and Tanner return, there will be no more uncertain looks. Deep down, they trust you, and the fear will have passed. And that's all Buck's fury is—his fear, and it's not real. They know that what you did, you did because that was what was required. Don’t believe for a second that, if you hadn’t had the Judge and those witnesses to protect, that you wouldn't have taken that bullet for Nathan yourself if you could have.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked weakly.

“Because…,” she replied, looking up at him, her voice fading.

With a small smile, she leaned up to kiss him, ever so lightly, on the lips. The touch was feather light, and so soft that her lips tingled in the same way as if she’d just eaten too much sugar, or had touched absinthe to her lips. Instantly, he stiffened, trying to back up, surprised.

“Inez….” He stammered, his breathing becoming more rapid. “I….What about…?” 

"Shhh." Gently, she reached up and rested her arms about his neck, allowing her hands to tickle lightly at the back of his hair. To be fair, what she'd just done had surprised her as well, and her heart was hammering in her chest, but it had felt right. More...she'd wanted to do it, and she wanted to do it more.

“Are you going to back away this time?” she murmured.

\----------------------------------

A thousand thoughts ran through Ezra's head, his whole body shaking with nerves. Inez's eyes were so clear, so certain, and he felt like such a fool under her gaze. She'd asked him a question, and, for once, he didn't have the words to answer.

With a little bit of fear, he shook his head. She smiled again, all coyness gone. Leaning forward, she once more brushed his lips with hers, and he could smell her scent. He could smell the pine and cedar soap she used to wash her face and hair, the muskiness of working in the bar all day on her clothes, the faint smell of alcohol on her fingers. Her hands wrapped themselves more tightly in his hair, and he couldn't help himself.

Loosening his grip on the table, his hands wrapping themselves around her. With an almost furtive touch, he pulled her in close, allowing her to wrap her arms more securely about his neck. This kiss was harder, more desperate, and his fear grew as he held on to her, afraid to let her go, afraid that she would leave.

She parted her lips slightly, letting her tongue tickle his lips, inviting. He responded immediately, deepening the kiss, taking her mouth completely in his. Shivers ran down his spine as she pressed herself closer, standing up on her toes to reach him better. Before long, he let her lips go, trailing kisses along her cheek and down her neck, nipping at her skin with his teeth and eliciting a slight moan from her. Grabbing his head in her hands, she drew him back, her movements more forceful as she took his lips in hers. 

Neither noticed the slight creak of the floorboards near the door as someone looked in on them, then disappeared.

Finally, Ezra moved his head away, and he once more trailed kisses down her neck until he reached her bare shoulder. Then he simply stopped, resting his forehead on her burning skin, holding her tight, hugging her as closely as he could. 

For a long time, he just held her.  
__________________________________

Buck’s head was spinning. He’d gone to find them in the storeroom so that he could apologize to Ezra, to tell him that he had been wrong to be angry….

That rat bastard.

Sweeping back through the saloon, he barely glanced at Seth as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the bar, not caring that it belonged to someone else. Cherise stood up from the chair where she’d been waiting for him, her brown eyes bright with surprise as he walked past without looking at her. She looked over at Seth, who was busy trying to placate the man from whom Buck had stolen the bottle.

Buck noticed none of it, just started drinking, seeing nothing but red as he stormed down the street, not caring where he was going.  
__________________________________

Inez had softly suggested Ezra get some rest after a while, and he nodded into her shoulder, not denying how tired he was. Not long after he'd headed upstairs, she followed him up with a tray of food and knocked on his door. No one answered. Frowning, she balanced the tray on one hip and tried the doorknob, interested to notice it was open. Silently making her way inside, she found Ezra asleep on the bed in a rather odd position. He’d obviously meant to just sit on the bed and wait for her, but had succumbed to putting his head on the pillow, leaving him in a half sitting, half lying down position. He was still fully dressed, even his boots were still on.

With a shake of her head, she placed the tray on the dresser, pushing aside the guns he’d lazily placed there, noting that his derringer was not among them. Quietly, she turned and made her way across to him, to pull off his boots. Once done, she stripped him of his jacket and waistcoat, which caused him to mumble something incoherent as he dug his head a bit deeper into the pillow. She looked at the derringer rig for a moment, before deciding to let him keep it on – she wasn’t sure she could take it off anyhow. Finally, she tipped his feet up onto the bed so that he was lying down properly, then rolled him over to pull the covers down. Not long after, she had him tucked in, covers up to his chin, face firmly ensconced in the white pillowcase.

“Sleep well,” she whispered, kissing his forehead. Brushing her fingers once more through his hair, she hung up his jacket and waistcoat, grabbed the tray, and left.

Only when she was outside his door did she start to tremble herself, to take in what she'd just done. She'd known for a while that she felt deeply for Ezra, but until just now...until now, she'd hadn't known just how deeply she'd felt.  
_________________________________

Someone knocked on Buck’s door, but, as Inez had with Ezra, they got no response. This time though, the door was locked when the handle was jiggled.

“Buck?” It was Cherise. “Buck, are you alright?”

Buck looked up, staring at the door as he took another swig from the bottle in his hand.

“Lover, I know you’re in there. Folks said they saw you come in. Listen, I don’t know what you saw that sent you storming off so angrily, but Inez gave me the night off—said she and Seth could handle it. If…If you need me, I’m here.”

He frowned slightly, the words not quite registering, but still made no move to answer. After a while, there was a slight thump on the door, as if someone were pressing their head against it. 

“Buck…I’m uh, I’ll be at the bar, should you want to find me, okay? I won’t leave, except to got to sleep, which I will do tonight on my own, just in case you change your mind.” 

He heard her sigh, and then her footsteps as she walked away. Buck took another swig of the whiskey and leaned against the headboard of his bed. Wiping a tired hand across his face, he wondered if he shouldn’t take Cherise up on her offer, but decided against it. He wanted to wallow in misery tonight.

Tomorrow he’d teach that son-of-a-bitch gambler a lesson in making moves on innocent women like Inez.


	2. The Morning After

Ezra came awake slowly, body rebelling at the mind’s need to insure that all was well. Confusion reigned briefly as he felt the soft feel of a mattress beneath his cramped shoulders and light touch on his brow of someone’s fingers. Then, with a sense of calm, he remembered the day before, remembered returning and having the town step in to take care of them, of Inez…

Inez!

Green eyes shot open with shock, and he twisted around to look at whoever was brushing the hair from his forehead. His mouth fell open stupidly as he found her sitting on his bed, fully dressed, her fingers lazily caressing his face. She trailed a finger lightly down his cheek, her lips twitching into a smile at seeing him awake.

“Hi,” she whispered.

His eyes got a little wider. Had they…? “Inez,” he croaked, "you--" He coughed suddenly , bringing his right hand to his mouth. He stopped when he saw the derringer rig still on it, and the fact that he still had his shirt on. Thank God. Not that he really believed his dreams anyway.

“Shhh,” she whispered, taking her hand away. “Here, I brought you some food, and I expect you to eat it, since you missed dinner earlier.” She stood and grabbed a tray from the dresser. Lifting it, she waited until he moved into a sitting position on the bed before coming to play the tray on his lap. He took the glass of water on the tray greedily, downing it in one gulp.

“I'm sorry to wake you,” she continued, watching as he drank the coffee on the tray more slowly. He was watching her warily. “I'm afraid it’s still night--only about an hour after midnight. But someone needs to stay at the clinic with Nathan and Josiah, as JD is at the jail and both Sarah and Mary need to get home. Sarah’s with child now.” She smiled as Ezra broke into a large grin at the unexpected news. “And Mary’s got her paper.” Inez shrugged, indicating she thought the paper could stand one day of being late, but he knew Mary’s priorities. "JD said you'd want to take over at the clinic but…" She frowned, eyes examining now. "I wonder if you need more rest." 

He swallowed, still watching her. Throughout her whole speech, he’d only had one question on his mind. “Inez, yesterday, did we…?” He trailed off, his mind questioning whether kissing her had been a dream.

“Did I kiss you?” she replied.

“You kissed me?”

“Well, you did kiss me back.” She grinned, and his mouth fell open again. Then, just as suddenly, he grinned, and she laughed. Leaning forward over the tray on his lap, she kissed him lightly on the lips then stood.

“Are you rested enough to go to the clinic?” she asked. "If not, I can see if—"

"No, no, JD's right. I want to go." He sat up a little more. "Thank you,” he said then, trying to express that he meant the words to encompass much more than simply waking him up and bringing him food. In response, she merely nodded.

“Now, I want you to eat all of that,” she said. “I want it empty when I come to clean it away.” When she pointed at the tray, he grabbed her arm with his left hand to prevent her from leaving.

“Will you go to dinner with me tonight?” he asked, a slight tremor of nervousness in his voice.

She blinked, blushing slightly, and smiled. “The saloon…” she began.

“Can survive one night without you,” he insisted. “Please. Whatever you want.”

She hesitated a moment, and then nodded. She laughed as Ezra blew out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. 

“Wear your navy jacket,” she said, removing her arm from his light hold. “And be by to pick me up at six.” She offered him one more smile before taking her leave. Ezra ached to go after her, to pull her to him again and let her kiss once again take away all the pain of the last week, but he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to ever let her go.

Still grinning stupidly, he attacked the food on the plate before him with a gusto reminiscent of Buck, not even caring that he was still extremely tired. He could sleep at the clinic.  
________________________________

JD was rudely interrupted from a dreamless sleep by a hammering on the jailhouse door, two hours after dawn had broken the horizon. Grimacing at sore muscles for having fallen asleep in the desk-chair, he rubbed his right shoulder with his left hand as he moved to answer the door. Wrenching it open, he offered his best glare at whoever had the tenacity to wake him. Carl Weathers stood opposite him, dark eyes bright with worry, and JD instantly readjusted his expression to concern.

“What is it?” 

“Trouble at the saloon. Couple of cowboys are bothering Inez.”

“Where’s Ezra and Buck?”

“Buck’s still asleep in his room, I was going there next. Ezra’s at the clinic. He relieved my Sarah there late last night as you suggested.” 

Sighing, JD nodded at Carl. “Okay, got get Buck, then Ezra,” JD walked over to grab his still dusty coat off the back of the chair, and went to grab his rifle in the corner. With a slight groan, he pushed through the door into the morning light and jogged over to the saloon, quickly discerning the sounds of glass breaking and the yelling of an irate manageress. Tom Mitchell stood out front, hands gripping his rifle in a white knuckled grip, clearly waiting for JD to arrive.

“When Inez opened the storm doors to let in some air, these two trail types must’ve pushed their way in, despite her telling them that she wasn’t opening for another hour,” Tom said hurriedly. He pointed to the batwing doors, and at the awkward way they hung. “You can see they broke the latch on the batwings to get in, and maybe a hinge. Then they started to yell and began pushing her around, demanding she get drinks and food for them. When she still argued, they started getting the stuff themselves.”

“How do you know…?”

“Me and Carl arrived when they started to yell. I been listening while Carl went to fetch you and the others.” Tom looked a bit sheepish, indicating that he hadn’t had the courage to try and face down the two cowboys on his own. JD nodded, not looking at him.

“Alright, you stay here and wait for Buck and Ezra.” Leaving the old man there, he sidled up to the batwings and took a peek inside. Easily, he could see that one of the cowboys was behind the counter, helping himself to whatever was behind the bar, while Inez was being held by another cowboy near the backroom. She was still fighting, but this one had one arm around her throat and another pulling her hair.

“Where’s the food, harlot?” the man was hissing. “We’re hungry and we don’t want no arguments from no woman.”

“Go to hell,” she spat back, trying to pull her head forward, but he pulled it back. 

“In the back?” he said, ignoring her answer. “And you say you’ll cook it for us? Whatever I want? On the house? Why how nice…” He licked her cheek, earning a scream of frustration from the manageress. She suddenly jumped up and stomped on the toes of his feet, causing him to yell and loosen his hold. Twisting, Inez got enough leverage to move and grab a bottle from off the counter, and, just as quickly, turn and smash it across his face. He yelled again, holding onto the side of his face, while his companion behind the bar pulled his gun to point at Inez as she stumbled away.

“Drop it!” JD yelled, jumping into the saloon, rifle raised. The one at the bar turned the gun on the kid, a dumb smile on his face, clearly not seeing a threat in one so young.

Inez fell to the floor, ducking behind a chair just as the rifle shot rang out. The man behind the bar cried out in pain, gripping his now bleeding arm, the gun uselessly falling to the floor. 

JD shook his head. “I warned you,” he said quietly. The other man, still holding his now bleeding face, turned to try and duck through the back, only to find himself facing an extremely angry Buck Wilmington. The gunslinger had come in via the backdoor and the kitchens.

“Going somewhere, ugly?” Buck asked, his gun pressing right between the stranger's eyes. The man yelped and backpedaled, hands going way up in the air. 

Inez sighed in relief and got up from off the floor, just as Ezra pushed into the saloon followed by Carl and Tom. JD was still holding his rifle on the man at the bar, who was whimpering and glaring at the kid at the same time. JD nodded at Ezra, who was grimacing at the scene before him. In seconds, the gambler was by Inez, helping her up and letting her lean on him.

“Got 'em both without your help, Ez,” Buck said, turning his cowboy around with a tight grip on the man's arm. "Looks like you stayed somewhere safe. Again." JD frowned, not missing the acid dripping from Buck's tongue, the frown deepening when he saw how dark Buck's face had gotten at seeing Ezra holding onto Inez. Ezra was oblivious, apparently, only having eyes for the woman before him.

“Are you alright?” the gambler was asking her. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

“Oh please,” she breathed, attempting to sound flippant, “it’s not as if this sort of thing was unusual. I'll be just fine for tonight.” She hugged him tightly, betraying the fact that she was shaking. Then, as if suddenly aware that others were in the room, she let him go, though one hand stayed on his arm. JD bit his lip, wondering if he had missed something. He glanced at Buck, to see if he knew, only to feel his heart stop at how bleak Buck's face looked. He'd never seen him look that angry—never—and it was all directed at Ezra. 

"I'm bleeding here," the man he'd shot suddenly whined. "Need a doctor."

"Me too," said the other one, pointing at his bloodied face from where Inez had clocked him with the bottle.

JD frowned, shaking from his reverie. “You want to fix them up, Ezra?” 

“No,” Ezra replied quickly, then he sighed in resignation at JD’s amused glance. “Oh hell. Get them to the jail. I’ll go get the stuff from Nathan’s.”

“Speaking of, how are Nathan and Josiah?” 

“They’ll be alright. Slept the whole night through, and Nathan’s fever is finally gone. He should be up and about soon.”

“Nice,” JD smiled, clearly pleased. He looked over at the doors, and saw both Tom and Carl poking their heads in. “Right, you boys, can you help me get these two to the jail?”

More than happy to help, Tom and Carl bustled inside, grabbing both cowboys and dragging them out of the saloon. JD put down his rifle and glanced at Buck, who was rubbing at his shoulder through his sling as he joined him.

"You alright?" JD asked.

"Fine," Buck said. "Let's get to the jail."

"Maybe you should get some food in you. I'm sure the boarding house—"

"No."

JD frowned, really worried now—Buck never turned down food. 

"I can grab something on my way back from the clinic," Ezra said then, coming up beside them. "I'd be more than happy to—"

"Fuck off, Ezra," Buck snapped. Ezra actually took a step back, eyes widening. Buck was not one to swear—something was really wrong. JD frowned, indicating that Ezra should go. Ezra nodded, stepping away quickly. JD looked up at Buck.

"Buck, what…" He trailed off as Buck walked away from him, as if he didn't even exist.  
___________________________________

Ezra bandaged the cowboy’s arm, assuring the man that the bullet had only grazed him, despite the graze being deep. As he fitted the man into a sling, he glanced across at the other one. The second cowboy was holding a compress to the side of his face where Inez’s bottle had cut him. His eyes were glassy, but he was alert. Ezra glared at him, unwilling to do more than supply the soaked compress. The man could clean his own cuts. 

Buck was standing in the jail, twisting the keys in his hand, waiting. JD had gone to help Inez clean up, while Carl and Tom had gone home to get some rest from having stayed up at the jail all night. 

Finished, Ezra backed out of the cell, wiping his hands on a towel.

“I will be most pleased when Mr. Jackson regains his sensibilities,” Ezra muttered, throwing the towel on the desk with some disgust as Buck locked the cell doors behind him. He sniffed at the noxious smell of linseed oil and milk on his fingers and grimaced.

“Well considering who put him in the clinic, I’d think you’d just be happy to know that he was going to recover at all,” Buck snarled. Ezra stopped moving, his whole body going rigid. 

Neither spoke as Buck walked around Ezra to the lean on the desk in front of him, arms crossed. The gambler was watching him quietly, his eyes wide open.

“I don't know what more I can say, Buck. I said I was sorry. You have to know I'd never--”

“I don’t want to hear it, Standish.” Buck watched him like a hawk. “I do, however, want to know what your intentions are towards Inez.”

Ezra lifted his chin slightly. “Inez?”

“You taking her out tonight? That what she meant earlier?”

Shaking his head, Ezra took a step back, back in the direction of the cells. Inside, the two injured cowboys were listening expectantly.

“I…I don’t see how that is any of your business, Mr. Wilmington.”

“Not my business?” Buck roared, standing up to full height so he towered over the smaller man. Ezra took another step back, hitting the outer cell door.

“You know,” Buck hissed. “You know full well how I feel about her.”

“Buck, I--”

“Shut up!” Buck gripped his good hand into a fist by his side, a movement Ezra watched with a tightening of the jaw. If Buck hit him, he’d let him. The gambler would not defend himself. After everything that happened this week, if this was the only way he and Buck could resolve this, then it was a small price to pay.

“I know I may not be good enough to be with someone like Inez,” Buck said, watching the man before him intently, “but I sure as hell know you ain’t good enough for her either. And yet, even after what you did in Red Fork, you still have the balls to go in there and kiss her? You bastard! She deserves so much better than a self-serving weasel like you. What if it’d been her instead of Nathan, huh? Would it have made a difference?”

Ezra was breathing more heavily with each stinging word, their conviction bruising his still fragile heart with severe blows as sure as any fist. Buck had seen them kissing yesterday? Oh lord. “Please, Buck--”

“I said I didn't want to hear it, boy! You may wear the clothes of an adult, Standish, but you’re still a hell of a lot younger than me, and you’re going to listen to what I have to say.” He took a step closer, and Ezra gripped the bars behind him.

“So how long’ve you been with Inez, huh? Seducing her behind my back for weeks, now, haven’t you? You probably both been laughing at me for ages, what with my pitiful attempts to win her. No wonder she kept rebuffing me, cause all this time she was with you….” Buck’s train of thought was all over the place, his anger, frustration and jealousy submerging all his reason and logic. In some small part of his brain, Ezra knew this, but the gambler’s own psyche was too strained to think any clearer than his friend.

“Yesterday…that was the first time. I swear. Please, you must believe me. I would never intentionally hurt you—”

“Well, you are hurting me. Just like you let Nathan get hurt.” Buck smirked as Ezra visibly cringed. “What’s the matter, Ezra? Can’t face what a bastard you are? Well, neither can I!” Buck stepped forward to stand less than a foot from the younger man, staring down his nose at him. Ezra waited patiently for the blow with his eyes closed, his whole body tensing in anticipation.

“Get in the other cell.”

Ezra opened one eye, then the other, and looked up at Buck. “What?”

“Get in there. You’re going to rot in there all day until I figure out what I’m going to do with you.”

Turning, Ezra glanced at the empty cell next to the one the two cowboys shared. Dust swirled in the sunlight that streamed in through the small barred window above the bed, and the odor of all the unwashed men who’d stayed in there assaulted his nostrils. He looked back at Buck.

“Can’t you just hit me?” he asked. 

Buck smiled thinly, lips curling away from his teeth like an animal about to strike. “I never hit first, Ezra. I only hit back. Now, get into that cell.”

Ezra swallowed, “What about Nathan and Josiah. What if they need me?”

“There are others who can take care of them, now that we’re home. Besides, you told JD that they’re going to be fine. Josiah’s more than healthy enough to call for help should anything change. Now, get in there before I throw you in there.”

Ezra grimaced, but nodded. Resignedly, he watched as Buck opened the outer cell door and shoved Ezra in front of him. In moments, he had the other door opened and was indicating to Ezra to get inside.

“You’re going to sit in there and think, Standish, about all the things you did wrong this week, all the people you hurt, and why you are going to stay the hell away from Inez. You got that?”

“Yes sir,” Ezra mumbled, watching as Buck slammed the door behind him.

“Good,” Buck gripped the keys in his fist and smiled wickedly. “I’ll see you later then. And don’t bother asking JD to get you out. I’m taking the keys with me.” He let the iron keyring play around his index finger, the keys on it chiming dully together, then shoved them into his coat pocket. Repeating his earlier snarl-like smile, the ladies man turned to leave. At the doors to the outside, he looked back and nodded, more to himself than to his captive, as Ezra sat down on the musty cot.

“That one loves ya, don’t he,” the cowboy with his arm in a sling grinned. Ezra snarled back, and turned to face the wall.  
_____________________________

“Hey Buck!” JD jogged across the street from the saloon, working to catch up with Buck who was striding swiftly down to street towards Digger Dan’s. “Buck, where are you going?”

“To get a drink, JD,” the tall man replied angrily. JD frowned, jogging slightly to keep up with Buck’s long strides.

“Well, where’s Ez? He gone back to the clinic? Inez was asking—”

“He’s in jail, JD. And he’s going to stay there.”

JD came to an abrupt stop, not hiding his confusion. Buck, however, kept on moving. Breaking out to his reverie, JD ran to catch up with his best friend, grabbing him on the arm and spinning him around.

“What are you talking about, in jail? Why is he in jail?”

“Because he deserves it. Now leave me alone.” Buck turned back around, but JD moved to stand in front of him.

“For what? For what he did in Red Fork? Buck, he had to do what he did. He had no choice! They would have killed those kids and the judge if he hadn’t covered them. Nathan deliberately let himself be a target so that Ezra could get them to safety. You know that!”

“Do I?”

“Buck, don’t be stupid. This is Ezra we’re talking about.”

“I know.” 

“Could of happened to anyone of us, Buck,” JD insisted.

Buck looked at him. “But it didn’t.” The words came out before he was aware of them, and when he did hear them, part of him almost saw clearly. He’d had this exact same argument with Chris about JD after the kid had accidentally shot Annie…except now he was playing Chris’s role. 

JD frowned up at him, and then shook his head. “I don’t understand. I’m going to go let him out.” He looked at Buck, waiting for an argument. Instead, Buck stared at the dirt at his feet. Snorting in disgust, JD made to step away when Buck suddenly reached out to grab JD’s arm in a tight grip.

“He kissed Inez,” he whispered, almost guiltily, as if in explanation. JD stopped instantly, turning slowly.

“Oh." JD seemed to fight with himself for a moment, then shook his head. "Buck…I’m sorry. I know how you feel about her, but…but Inez, she makes up her own mind. If she and Ezra…well, she wouldn’t have just let him kiss her. More likely she kissed—”

“Stop,” Buck shouted, loosing JD’s arm. “She has no idea what sort of person he is. He’s a snake, a cheat, a…a…a coward.” His expression faltered as he heard the words he’d just spoken, hearing how false they rang even in his own ears.

JD just raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like it is you who doesn’t know what sort of man he is, Buck.”

Buck frowned, his reason breaking through for a moment. JD was right. Ezra wasn’t any of those things anymore, if he ever had been. Buck knew in his heart that everything he was feeling and saying right now was wrong, that Ezra deserved as much from him as JD did. Damn it, he liked Ezra, liked him a lot. But then he saw Inez walking across the street to the Potter’s, a look of anticipation and joy on her face, and his expression darkened. Glaring once more at the kid, he started walking away, heading once more to Digger Dan’s.

“I’m going to go let him out, Buck!” JD called after him.

“I have the keys, JD!” Buck retorted, intent once more on getting drunk and forgetting for a while.   
________________________________

The kid charged into the jail, puffing slightly, and grimaced when he saw Ezra sitting curled up with his arms around his knees on the cot in the second cell. The gambler was staring blankly at the wall in front of him. The other two cowboys both appeared to be napping, their injuries having wiped out their energy.

Calming his breath, JD stepped forward to the outer cell doors and rested his arms through them. A quick glance at the empty post where they normally hung the keys told him that Buck hadn’t been lying.

“Ez?”

The gambler didn’t reply.

“Ez? I’m going to go and try and talk to Buck and get you out of here.”

“Don’t bother,” came the terse reply.

“You don’t belong in here. Buck’s just jealous, Ez. He’ll get over this.”

“Hmm,” came the non-committal reply. JD leaned his forehead against the bars separating him from his friend.

“Ezra, you don’t deserve this. You do know that, right?”

Ezra hung his head, resting his forehead on his knees, then turned his neck so he could see JD.

“Are you so sure I don’t?”

“Yes. Without question.”

Hanging his head again, Ezra couldn’t help but smile. "Your conviction befits your good heart, JD, but I'm not sure it's supported by the evidence."

JD frowned. "'Course it is. Don't be stupid."

"I'm being honest."

"Nah, you're just being stupid. And so's Buck."

Ezra snorted.

Swallowing, JD steeled himself, determined to fix the damage his jealous best friend had inflicted, even if it meant bringing up the one thing he least liked to talk about.

“Ezra…do you remember when I shot Annie?”

The man on the cot flinched, and he turned surprised eyes on JD.

“Well,” JD continued, “you remember what that did to me? I thought…I thought that it happened because it was me who had the gun. You understand? Almost as if I had done it on purpose, because, if I hadn’t of tried to stop them on my own, that if I hadn’t fanned my gun, or, if I hadn’t tripped in my haste to get out of the line of fire, if…” He shuddered, feeling the edges of his nightmares coming back. “If….” He frowned, aware that his train of thought had gotten away from him as the scene played out for what was probably the thousandth time in his head.

Ezra sat up straighter, turning so that he faced the kid leaning on the bars, not hiding his concern at the boy's strange words. “JD, don't. Don't bring that up. It was an accident. A fluke. You could have said what if she hadn’t been standing by the window to see what was happening, or, what if she’d gotten behind cover, or, hell, what if the thieves had shot you first? You can't—”

“Point is,” JD said harshly, stopping Ezra, raising his voice to warn him from interrupting again. Ezra's mouth closed, and JD took in a deep breath. “Point is,” he repeated more quietly, “I knew it was an accident, see? I knew it then, just as I know it now, but…but I heard what the townsfolk were saying about me, and I saw the doubt in Chris’s eyes, and, well, I convinced myself that they were right. That it was me. That if anyone else had been there, that Annie’d still be alive. It wouldn’t have happened.” He paused, taking in a shallow breath.

“JD, you don’t have to—”

“But then I wouldn’t have been on that stagecoach when Achilles attacked it. And he would have killed the people on it, I know. Iffin I hadn’t been there then, he would have succeeded, wouldn’t he? So, it was another, what did you call it? A fluke? It was another fluke that I was on that coach, but it was me that saved it. So the 'what ifs'? That time, they worked out.”

He'd been staring listlessly at the floor as he'd talked, but, on finishing, he looked back up at Ezra with clear eyes. 

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Ezra frowned. He shook his head. “What I did was not an accident. I made a deliberate choice.”

“No, you didn’t. It was already out of your control by that point. Just like when I made the decision to try and stop those bankrobbers and pulled my gun—everything after that was flukes. You can’t control everything all the time, Ezra. You make a decision and then that's it--sometimes something awful happens as a result, and sometimes something good. You and Nathan made the decision to split up so that you could better protect those people and the Judge. It was a fluke that Nathan got hit. It could've been you. And then he would've done what you did—protected the judge while you nearly died. All you could do once you'd made the decision to split, and Nathan got hit, was what you did—you couldn't do anything else. You protected the people who couldn’t protect themselves, and trusted that one of us would arrive in time to help Nathan. And Buck did.” 

Ezra watched JD, and saw that this conversation seemed to be healing the old wound of the boy’s as much as it was meant for Ezra. JD smiled suddenly.

“So you see? What Buck thinks right now, the doubts he has? They aren’t real, and, besides, he’s wrong. Nathan and me, Ez, we know the truth. We know, because we know you. Once, long time ago, I let the judge put you in here ‘cause I didn’t know what kind of person you were. Well, I know now, and I’m going to do whatever I can to get you out.” 

Ezra shook his head, and, suddenly, started to laugh. JD grinned, and lifted his head to brush some of the hair out of it. 

“Tell you what, so long as I’m playing Nathan’s role in this town at the moment, I’m nominating you to play Josiah’s.”

“Really?” JD’s grin widened. “What I said helped?”

“Yes. I think, between you and Inez, I may actually finish this week with my soul intact.”

Hearing the name Inez caused JD’s smile to falter, but Ezra didn’t notice as he was rubbing the tiredness from his eyes. JD nodded then, exuding the deep confidence of one destined to be a great leader, and stood up straight. Tipping his hat to Ezra, he said, “I’ll go talk to Buck then.” Ezra’s eyes flew open again, and he shook his head.

“No…wait. Let him think for a while on his own. Maybe he just needs some time. I know I do. I don’t have to be anywhere until later, so I’m all right here, plus, I could use the rest. Fact is, I’d rather he be the one to let me out, unless there is no other recourse.” Ezra shifted as he spoke, turning on the cot so his feet were on the ground again and his head leaning back against the back wall.

JD frowned, “You sure?”

Ezra stared up at the pockmarked gray rock of the ceiling, and nodded.

Still frowning, JD sighed. “I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to. And—frankly--I’m rather glad you don’t.” He smiled again, and JD returned it wryly. Ezra sighed. “Besides, I do have somewhere rather important to be tonight. Should Mr. Wilmington not return in time for me to get ready for this evening, then you may go and speak to him.”

JD perked up at that. “All right, Ez. I’ll wait, but if Josiah or Nathan gets wind of this, or Chris and Vin, I can’t promise they’ll be as patient.”  
________________________________________

Ezra’s smile became more crooked as he thought of the others, wondering if JD was right. Probably he was, but Ezra was questioning everything at the moment, from his own soul to those of his friends, despite JD’s words. Like Buck, he just needed the time to mull it over in his own head. The only thing he was sure of was that he would be there to pick up Inez tonight. More than anything, he wanted tonight to go right. Something this week would go right.

It had to.


	3. Shifting Plans

The day passed slowly, with no one outside of Buck and JD aware that Ezra was in jail. Up in the clinic, Josiah watched over Nathan, although he did wonder why Ezra hadn't returned after getting the supplies he needed. He hoped it was because the gambler was getting some more sleep. The younger man had still looked exhausted, especially after watching over them last night, even though he had seemed lighter than he had all week.

Josiah didn't blame Ezra for what happened to Nathan, how could he? But, like the others, the preacher had needed a little distance for a while, something he was denied because Ezra was tending both of them. Nathan and JD had both accepted Ezra’s actions without thinking, but Josiah knew he had acted coldly, just as Buck, Vin and Chris had. He regretted that aloofness now, knowing it might have badly damaged the relationship he’d been building with the younger man, and hoped Ezra would stop by so that he could tell him in person.

Dearest God, how could he have been such a fool as to allow himself to act that way? 

Nathan yawned and opened his eyes, looking up at his friend sitting next to him. The healer smiled, and raised a hand to reach for Josiah’s. The preacher grabbed it without hesitation.  
____________________________________

Several hours later, around early afternoon, Yosemite looked up from his smithy as two riders came in slowly towards him and his livery. Placing his hammer to one side, he leaned back in the chair to greet them.

“Afternoon strangers, can I help you?”

“You the livery owner, blacksmith?” the taller man asked. He was swarthy, thick of lip and dark of brow. Black hair was tied back sloppily behind his head, allowing for several loose strands. Some women might describe the man as handsome, but Yosemite saw an ugliness there that had nothing to do with looks. Nevertheless, never one to turn down a copper, the blacksmith stood up from his chair and nodded.

“That would be me. You need your horses stabled?”

“This one is quick, huh Frank? Smart as a whip, eh?” the second man grinned as he spoke, his voice oddly high pitched for someone with such an old face. Perhaps about fifteen years his companion’s senior, this old man was also much uglier. His face twisted into a leer as he watched Yosemite through a pair of pig-like eyes, the silver hair on his head contrasting sharply with two bushy eyebrows and a long handlebar mustache the color of pitch.

Yosemite shot him a look, but didn't reply. Instead, he looked back at “Frank.” The Hispanic man shot his old friend a dirty look for the sarcastic comment, then dismounted.

“How much,” Frank asked.

“Nickel a day,” Yosemite replied, “per horse.”

Frank nodded, and handed his reins over to the stout man. As he pulled his bags from off the horse’s saddle, he looked up at his companion. “Give him your horse, Chet.”

Chet snorted slightly before dismounting and adding his reins to Frank’s. Then he fished a couple of nickels out of the small purse at his belt and handed them over. Yosemite accepted them with a nickel fisted salute. Chet ignored him and went to pull his own bags from off his horse’s saddle.

Frank turned to look over the town, his eyes alighting on the two saloons. With a tiny smile, he apparently picked one and headed off. Chet followed, shooting one more twisted look at Yosemite as he left. 

The blacksmith grimaced slightly, then shrugged. He reached out to pet the one called Frank’s horse, who responded by tossing her head slightly. She showed signs of having been ridden hard, which annoyed the soft-hearted man.

“Shh, lovely lady. We’ll get you and your friend here someplace nice and comfy, very soon.”  
___________________________________

Frank threw his tack against the wall of the boarding house, his anger evident in every muscle on his face.

“Sons of bitches! What the hell were they thinking!” They’d just spent almost two hours working their way through town, only to discover that the two men they’d come to meet had been put in jail this morning.

Chet flinched where he sat on one of the small beds and shook his head. “Shhh, Frank, you want the whole world to hear?”

“Shush? SHUSH! You want me to be quiet! Blast you, old man, I have a right to be angry. All those two lowlifes had to do was scope out the town for the day, make sure it was still empty of peacekeepers, and what happens? They get themselves tossed in jail and, to make matters worse, Slim gets himself shot in the arm! What hell good is a lockpick and a safecracker with only one arm? There’s more gold in this town’s bank than in any of the ones in a twenty mile radius, all because of the seven lawmen, and now I’ll never even get to look at it!”

“Boss, boss, there is some good news.” Chet tried smiling, betraying several gaps in his yellow array of teeth. Frank, who tried to keep his teeth white (for the ladies) turned away in disgust.

“What good news? You heard what they’re saying in town. Them peacekeepers of theirs are back, which is why it was so easy for them to take our boys down this morning. Damn fools! Damn, stupid idiots! Iffin we hadn't gotten that info about them being away in Red Fork so late—”

“Boss—”

“What?”

“Boss, they ain’t all back, and, those that’re here? I understand only two of them ain't hurt.”

Frank frowned, turning to Chet with dark eyes. “Say again?”

“Well, see, there’s supposed to be seven of ‘em, right? Six and the Larabee fella? Well, Larabee's out of town with one of the other ones, and they’re not expected back till tomorrow. Then I heard tell that another two are laid up in the clinic over the livery, basically useless to anyone, so I’ve been told. And then there’s a big fella whom everyone’s been saying is drunk as a skunk in one of the saloons, and, when I went to look, boss, sure enough, there he was. But best of all, he got himself a sling. Wrenched his back and broke his arm, so they say. So that leaves…” He paused, counting down on his fingers from seven. Finally, he held up two fingers proudly. “Two!”

Frank watched the small man throughout his whole speech with a cold expression, but when he finished, some warmth returned.

“Well, just two, eh? Any idea where they are?”

“Well, I peeked in the jail about an hour ago, and saw one of them behind the desk watching our boys and some gambler type sitting in the cells. The other, so I overheard, is probably up in the clinic watching the sick ones.”

Frank pursed his lips, then clicked his tongue. After a moment, he nodded. “Well, that does make things seem a mite bit brighter, Chet. Don’t mean we’re going to rob this town, not with Slim hurt, but at least we can probably get ‘em out of jail without too much trouble.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” Chet positively beamed, and Frank had to look away again so as not to look directly at his teeth. 

“Well, then,” the dark man said, “let’s get this over with. I want this done before the drunk one gets his wits back.”   
__________________________

Ezra looked up as JD as the kid wandered back into the jail, his face expectant. Behind him, the lazy late afternoon sun shone warmly, silhouetting the boy in the door for a moment before he shut it. When JD shook his head, Ezra sighed.

“I tried, but he’s really far gone. He got angry with me or asking, then…” his face took on a slightly pained expression, and he touched his rear end. “Then he got kinda frisky.”

Ezra’e eyes widened at the remark, and, unable to resist, burst into laughter. “Oh, my poor friend! Dear Lord….” He held his hand over his heart, while JD tried to shoot him a nasty glare. Finally, incapable of not seeing the humor, JD smiled as well. Over in the adjacent cell, the two cowboys watched and listened with crooked expressions. Then JD sighed.

“Anyway, I think you may have to—”

“Get myself out. Yes, I thought that might happen.” Still chuckling, the ever resourceful gambler drew out the pair of picks he had secreted in his waistcoat pocket, sighing as the thread holding them in place ripped. He hated having to do that—mainly because he hated always having to sew them back in afterwards. JD’s mouth fell open as Ezra moved to the cell door and twisted sideways so he could reach his arm through and insert the picks into the lock.

“I forgot you could do that,” JD said, watching Ezra twist the picks around. Ezra smiled. After a moment of, JD frowned.

“Hey, wait a second, you could do that all along?” he asked.

Ezra nodded as the lock clicked, and he pushed open his cell door. “Of course, but I told you that I wanted Mr. Wilmington to be the one to let me out. However, I don’t have the luxury of waiting for him any longer. Not if I want to take a bath and be ready for this evening.” At the outer cell door, he again twisted sideways to reach out and insert the picks in the lock.

JD shook his head in amazement, then he smiled. “No, I mean…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Have you _always_ been able to do that?”

Ezra looked up, pausing his playing with the lock. “What do you mean, always?”

“I mean, always. As in, from the day we got here?” JD was watching Ezra’s fingers, the flat pick loose in the man’s flexible hands. Ezra smiled.

“As in, why didn’t I let myself out when you first put me in here, all that time ago?”

JD grinned and nodded, and Ezra shook his head. The conman leaned more into the door and returned to his craft. 

“Honestly, if I knew the answer to that question, I would gladly tell you. All I know is, instead of taking advantage of your absences at that time, I had chosen to wait. I’m not really sure for what.” The lock fell open, and Ezra pushed open the outer cell door. Well, truth is, he did know, but he would never admit it out loud. He’d stayed because he’d wanted to follow Chris again.

“Hey mister! How 'bout letting us out too!” one of the cowboys cried, holding onto the bars of his cell. “We’ll make it worth your while.”

Ezra threw them an incredulous glance and looked back at JD. The young sheriff was leaning on his desk with his arms crossed, clearly impressed.

“Will you teach me how to do that, someday?” he asked. Ezra shrugged.

“Sure, but—”

“But at the moment he’s going to use that talent to let my friends out,” a low voice said. Both JD and Ezra immediately went for their guns, but it was too late. A stranger about Buck's height stood in the open doorway with a gun pointed and cocked at JD’s head. As he walked inside, the creak of the back door to the jail also shut and a gray-haired man wandered in from the rear of the jail. He too had a gun raised, a LeMat from the looks of the old weapon. 

The tall one indicated the cell door with his weapon. “Open it.”

Ezra considered his options, feeling the comforting weight of the derringer on his right arm. Sensing the hesitation, the younger man stepped up and clobbered JD on the side of the head with the butt of his gun. The kid fell to the floor in a heap, never having made a sound.

“Hey!” Ezra tried to move forward, but the click of the LeMat behind his head stopped him.

“Let them out, gambler.”

“Man, are we glad to see you!” the man with the sling said.

“Shut up, Slim.” The tall one said, glaring at the man. “What the hell were you idiots thinking? Now I got to get you out of here before that other lawman finds out.”

“We’re sorry, Frank,” the man with the compress on the side of his face said. Slim, meanwhile, looked confused.

“What other lawman? The drunk one, you mean? The one with the keys? You ain't got to worry about him, Frank. From the sounds of it, he’s well into his cups and won’t be coming out for a while.” Slim was watching Ezra, who was still trying to decide if he could get out of this.

“No, dimwit. The other one. They says there are two who ain't hurt, and we don’t want that other one coming here and causing trouble.”

Slim frowned, “But, Boss, the other one is here. You got him there.” He pointed at Ezra, who was pursing his lips in annoyance. Frank’s expression changed then, face lit with astonishment as he looked at Ezra. The gambler glared back.

“You sure, Slim? I thought this joker was just in jail?”

“Yeah, ‘cause the drunk one’s jealous about something. That’s him, Frank. You got ‘em both.” Slim smiled then, and Frank’s lips twitched. His eyes appraised Ezra and, slowly, he smiled.

“You don’t say….” He watched as Ezra swallowed, the conman's fingers itching to reach for his guns. “Grab his guns, Chet,” Frank said happily. The older man pulled the Remington from Ezra’s hip, then lifted the sides of his jacket up to make sure there weren't any more guns. Ezra hadn't bothered to put his shoulder holster and Colt on this morning, so the Remington was the only obvious weapon he wore.

“Now let them out,” Frank smiled. “Let them out, or I will ensure that this boy here doesn't see another tomorrow.” He placed a boot on JD’s exposed neck and started to press. Though still unconscious, JD’s face started to tense up as his air was caught off.

“Stop! Don't!” Ezra said, his brow furrowed. “I’ll let them out.” He walked to the cell door and inserted his picks. In less time than it had taken himself to do it backwards, he had the door opened and the men were released. Ezra stepped back as Slim and his companion walked out. The two cowboys walked to the desk and pulled it open to get their own guns out. 

“Impressive,” Frank applauded, watching Ezra carefully. “You know, gambler, it seems a shame to waste such a talent. Tell you what, I’m going to give you a chance to save this boy’s life.” He still kept his boot pressed to JD’s neck. Ezra glanced down to make sure JD was still breathing, relieved to see a weak rise and fall of the chest. He looked back at Frank, noticing grimly that he now had four sets of guns pointing at him.

“What have you in mind?” he asked softly.

Frank smiled, pleased at the resigned undercurrent to the man’s voice. “Well, I've seen your skill with a lockpick. Tell me, can you also crack safes?”

Ezra frowned. “You want to break into the bank,” he said.

Frank nodded slowly, “Dead to rights, tin horn. And if you don’t help, this boy will never see the light of day again.”


	4. Elements of Fear

Judge Travis leaned out of the window of the stage, being careful not to knock his head on the side of the window and watched Chris Larabee glare at the horizon like he wanted to shoot it. He was looking in the direction of Four Corners for probably the tenth or eleventh time since lunch. While never a talkative person, the gunslinger now made his normal speech habits seem verbose. The Judge also knew that, if he were to peer out the other side of the carriage, he would get the same impression from Vin.

At this moment, they were as equidistant from Four Corners as the Judge’s final destination, Greeley. If Chris and Vin were to turn off now, they would reach home by nightfall.

“Chris,” Travis called, shifting slightly as his hurt arm bounced off the wall of the carriage when it hit a pothole. When the gunslinger didn’t respond immediately, the Judge sucked in another breath and tried again more loudly. “Chris!”

Not trying too hard to hide his irritation, Chris turned and looked over at the judge with a dark expression. 

“Yes?”

“Go home.”

The gunslinger frowned. “What?”

“You heard me. Listen, I really don’t need an escort for the rest of the ride, and besides, the sheriff of Greeley said he would meet me not too far from here to escort me into town. Why don’t you go home, check on the others?” 

Chris narrowed his gaze, examining now. “I thought you said the sheriff of Greeley couldn’t meet you.”

“I received a telegram in the last town we stopped at. He can meet me after all,” the Judge lied. “Hired himself some extra deputies with my permission. In any case, the gang from Red Fork is in bits and pieces--I have no fears that I will arrive at my destination safely.”

“Vin and I promised we’d see you all the way there.”

“Not necessary. And you have more important things to do. Fences to mend.” The Judge hadn't missed the tension in the air when the wagon had rolled off, how only JD had seemed able to look at Ezra. “I think you may not only be feeling the need to check on your men who are unwell, but on the healthy as well, correct?”

Chris watched him intently for a moment. The sound of hoofbeats caused him to look behind, just in time to see Vin pull around the back of the stage and come up alongside.

“We should go home, cowboy. The judge is right.” The tracker had his head bowed, not looking at either man. 

“We made a promise not to leave the judge until we were sure he was safe.”

“I’m safe,” Orrin stated, wincing as he was once again thrown against his bad arm. He stuck his head out a little further to send a glare in the direction of the oblivious driver and his second. “And I’m going to beat this fool driver’s head in if he doesn’t start looking out for potholes!” he yelled. Up above, the driver sent a startled look back, his face confused. His second laughed.

“Yeah, well…” 

"These are seasoned men transporting me," the judge continued. "I know you can see that from the way Mike there holds a rifle. They're good with guns even if their steering could be improved. In addition, you know we are not that far from Greeley."

“Good enough for me,” Vin said to the air. “See you later Judge.” With an abrupt move, he tipped his hat at Orrin and turned Peso’s head. Moments later, he was heading out at a good clip in a direction almost perpendicular to that as the stage. Chris growled in frustration.

"I promised—"

“You gonna let him beat you back to town?” the Judge teased.

Chris frowned at him, then gave a small smile. “See ya, Judge,” he said, before tipping his own black hat and turning his horse around to follow his best friend. Travis laughed, and then snapped an "ow" as they hit another hole. He stuck his head out of the carriage again.

"Pay attention, damn it! Don't forget, I know both your mothers!"

"Sorry, sir!"  
____________________________

Ezra had his arms crossed over his chest, watching JD with a nervous tension. The boy still hadn’t regained consciousness, and this was beginning to worry Ezra immensely. Sending a lethal glare in the direction of Chet and the other two outlaws (what had the Spaniard called them? Slim and Paisley?), who continued to hold their weapons on Ezra and JD with astonishing concentration, the gambler tapped his fingers on his sleeves and sighed heavily.

Chet looked up from where he sat next to JD on the floor. “Something the matter?”

“Yes. How much longer are we going to sit—”

The back door creaked open, bringing everyone back up to attention. Ezra straightened, hoping it would be Buck, but the smell of too much cologne told him otherwise. Frank smiled as he reentered the main room of the jail, and threw a purse of coins at Chet.

“Got the horses, including an extra one for our reluctant companions here. They can ride double.” He grinned, brushing a long black lock of hair from his face. “We can leave now.”

“And where, pray tell, are we going?” Ezra asked, watching JD. As if aware of the scrutiny, JD groaned and a hand drifted to his head. Frank ignored him to also look down at the kid.

“Nice timing.” Frank's grin broadened, kneeling down to prod JD with the barrel of his gun. “Wake up, boy.”

Ezra let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when JD’s hazel eyes fluttered open. The kid groaned again when Frank’s face came into focus staring down at him.

“Oh hell,” the boy muttered, shutting his eyes again. Frank laughed lightly and prodded him again.

“No, no, keep ‘em eyes open, boy; we’re going for a ride.”

“Where are we going?” JD croaked back, opening his eyes more fully, his vision obviously clearer now. Ezra tried to take a step forward to check on him, but Slim and Paisley shook their heads. The gambler stopped, his lips pursed in frustration.

“To a little hidey hole me and Chet found,” Frank replied. “You’ll stay there with Slim and Paisley while we and your lock-picking friend here come back to rob the bank tonight.”

“Lock-picking friend?” JD eyes narrowed in puzzlement and he titled his head up off the ground to look around the room. Ezra stood with his arms crossed a few feet away, watching him closely. “Oh,” the boy whispered, “but Ezra can’t crack safes.”

Frank frowned, dark eyes darting to meet Ezra’s. “That true?”

“No. I can open the safe.”

“Ezra,” JD whispered in clear disappointment, “don’t.”

“I will not put you at risk anymore than I have to, Mr. Dunne.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Frank nodded at the gambler. “See, Mr. Dunne, if Chet and I do not return to the encampment by dawn, Slim and Paisley will kill you. Slowly, if I know Paisley.” He looked across at the silent man, who had a bunch of nasty, tiny little cuts on the side of his face where Inez had gotten him with the bottle. Paisley didn’t respond, just stared out of one clear and one bloodied eye at the pair of them. 

Frank, meanwhile, looked back at JD. “And your friend here has assured me that he will do whatever I ask to prevent any harm coming to you. He gave me his word.” 

“Oh hell, Ez….” JD sat up, his hand resting on his head. Chet reached out and helped pull him to his feet. 

“Tie him up,” Frank ordered the older outlaw.

“What? Why?” Ezra demanded, stepping forward, his arms falling to his sides although he knew there were no guns there, his right arm itching to release the derringer. Frank instantly put his gun to the side of JD’s head and cocked it. Ezra stopped, fear coursing through him. 

“Because while you seem to be a coward, the boy here does not,” Frank replied quietly. Ezra stood stock still, his eyes flashing. Then, slowly, he re-crossed his arms and stepped back. He would not risk JD. He would not let the boy get hurt because of him. He wouldn't let that happen again. His head lowered so that he stared blankly at the ground.

“This is too easy,” Frank laughed lightly. Chet snorted in derision as he tugged JD’s arms behind him. The kid, meanwhile, was staring with a completely confused expression at Ezra's seeming cowardice.  
_____________________________________________

The hum of the only sewing machine in town rolled out of the door of the seamstress’s as Miss Eileen redid the seams on the blue dress Inez had brought her from Mrs. Potter's to fix up. Her foot rocked up and down on the peddle, the neat spindle rapidly spilling thread as the machine did its work. She was not a young woman, the new seamstress, not like the young woman she had replaced who had, so Eileen had been told, met an untimely end. No, she wasn’t young, but neither was she old, and an unlined face stared with intensity at the delicate stitch-work beneath her fingers. The only testament to the years she held was the silver stretching back from her temples.

“How is it going?” a sweet accented voice asked from the doorway. Miss Eileen smiled, but didn’t look up. After one more second, she stopped pumping with her foot and the machine stilled. She pulled the fabric out and gently snipped the thread with a pair of scissors.

“It’s done,” she replied. “Ye've got a nice frock here, lassie, very fancy.” She stood and shook the dress out. “Ye should try it on afore I let you leave with it, though.”

Inez smiled and stepped inside, her hands reaching for the dress. Miss Eileen released it and watched as Inez stepped over to pull closed the curtained space on one side of the room.

“You needed it in an awful hurry, lass. Is there sometin' special going on tonight?”

Inez laughed at the question, color rising on her face as she pulled the dress on. “Yes…you could say that. I’m, uh, I’m going to dinner with someone.”

“Truth? Oh, that’s lovely. Is it that Buck?”

“Buck?” Inez laughed harder, “No. No, there was a time when maybe…” she drifted off. “No, your gossip is a touch old, Miss Eileen. Buck and I have never been more than friends. No, it is one of his friends.”

“Oh,” Eileen smiled and sat back down next to her machine, her fingers playing with the needles and pins sticking out of the pincushion on the desk. “Then it is with that Ezra fellow. The one ‘ose lovely jackets and weskits I seem to have to stitch up more oft than I like to think on.”

Inez didn’t laugh this time. Instead, she emerged from behind the curtain, the dress fitting snugly around her. The shape was flattering, but she bit her lip as she self-consciously smoothed it down. “Yes. Ezra. Has a habit of getting in the way of bullets,” she attempted a laugh, but there was no humor in her eyes. Aware of her failure, she shook her head. “Oh, senorita, I swear, every time I learn that he has been hurt, I….” She stopped and sighed, wondering why she suddenly felt vulnerable in this room and this dress. As she looked into the seamstress’s almost bottomless black eyes, the normally self assured manageress found her walls crumbling. 

“Seems like you care quite a bit for the young man,” the seamstress said, stepping forward to check on her handiwork. Inez raised her arms as Eileen walked around her.

“Yes, I…He and I, well….” Inez smiled, “It’s been almost a year and a half since I first met him, and, in that time, we have become very close, especially when he moved in to the saloon from the boarding house. He helps me with the saloon, you see, and I have come to rely on him to always be there for me. He was my first friend in town, the first to take me seriously, to take me in and…and I still count him as my best friend. And there have been times, late at night, when I wondered, watching him helping me close up the tavern, that….” She stopped, her dark brown eyes looking up, almost startled. “Oh, Miss Eileen, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m babbling,” she grinned sheepishly, but the seamstress shook her head. 

“I asked, love. An' I get the feeling that you needed some’un to talk to about it.”

“I, yes, maybe.” Inez shook her head. She prided herself on always being in control, but, for some reason, the closer she got to the hour she was supposed to meet Ezra, the more nervous she was feeling. Her hands moved to smooth down the dress again, to hide the peculiar shiver that hit her.

“He’s very lucky,” Miss Eileen said. Practiced hands tested the tautness of the dress’s torso, and her eyes inspected the stitching for loose threads and hems. Inez raised her arms again as Eileen floated around her. For an absurd moment, she felt like a princess being readied for the ball.

“I hope so,” Inez replied quietly. Her eyes looked out the large plate glass window to the street beyond. The seamstress’s shop was down one of the streets off the main one, and looked directly across at the barber’s. For a moment, she wondered if Ezra might be in there. A smile crossed her face as her nerves bubbled up inside here again. Her raised arms felt tired with the strain of holding them up for so long.

“I’m just afraid,” she continued. “You see, I…I was the one to…I mean, he asked me, but, I wonder….”

“He’ll be there, love. If he’s not, he is the greatest fool this world has ever known.” The seamstress didn’t look up as she tugged down on part of the skirt and watched the repaired hem hold. “This looks fine, Miss Inez. It is perfect.”

Inez smiled.  
______________________________________

JD leaned back slightly as the rented horse bucked a little. In front of him, Ezra quieted the antsy mare with a soothing word and a pat. Unlike JD, the men hadn't tied Ezra's hands, trusting the gambler to stick to his word to help them in order to save the kid's life. JD swallowed and shifted to get a better balance. He hated riding in back, and he especially hated doing it without being able to hold onto the rider in front of him. He had to trust his legs and balance, and, while he trusted them on his own horse, this skittish mare was providing a challenge.

She calmed down enough to allow JD to relax slightly. Around them the other four outlaws were not paying them much attention as they loped towards the trees in the distance. They were heading vaguely northeast, in the direction of the James Ranch. Because James owned all this land around here for his cattle to graze, there was no one around who might be able to help them. 

Slowly, they descended into a valley lined by a thin, bubbling brook down its center. JD leaned forward as Ezra instinctively leaned back.

“Ezra?” JD hissed in the gambler’s ear.

“Hmm?”

“What is the plan? I mean, you have a plan, right?”

“Not as such, no.”

“But, the way you acted back at the jail," JD swallowed, "that was an act, right?”

“No.”

JD’s eyes widened at the honest statement. Aw shit. 

Ezra swallowed, his eyes on the ground before the mare’s hooves. “I said I would do nothing to jeopardize your safety.”

“Ezra, come on, they are going to kill us anyway, you know that.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I can convince them to let you go if I get them what they want.”

“Ezra, you’re not seriously….You can’t rob the bank!”

“If it comes down to having to choose between you and something else, JD, I will choose you. I will not sacrifice another of my friends, especially not to save a mere bank.”

JD heard these words, his face screwed up in worry. Then, with a shuddering sigh, he figured it out. This was about Nathan. The kid pressed his forehead to Ezra’s shoulder blade, his eyes closed.

“Can you really crack safes?” he asked after a while.

“No.”

“No?” JD looked up.

“But I have a habit of memorizing numbers, an interesting side effect of my profession. Half the time, I do not even notice I’m doing it. In any case, I have seen our bank manager open the safe enough times to know the combination by heart.”

JD’s eyes remained wide open as he processed this. 

“But there is something I want to give you,” Ezra said quietly. The gambler looked around at the outlaws, but they too seemed intent on guiding their horses down the slight incline. Slowly, he snaked his right arm behind his back, and engaged the derringer rig. JD felt the released gun dig against his abdomen, and he shrank back slightly. 

“I can’t grab it. My hands are tied behind my back,” JD whispered quickly. “Besides, you might need…” He shut up as he felt Ezra feel along the top of his trousers with the gun barrel. When he reached the bone of his hip, the gambler tucked the gun inside JD’s pants pocket. JD frowned, as Ezra returned his arm to the front.

“If you get the opportunity, use it to kill these bastards and get away.”

“What about you?” JD whispered quietly. His eyes were narrowed now, knowing that there was nothing he could do to give the gun back with his hands bound.

Ezra didn’t answer.


	5. Turning the Tables

Inez checked her image in the mirror of the saloon one last time, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She bit her lips slightly to add some color and straightened her shoulders. The dress was much fancier than anything she had ever owned before, and she felt a little strange in it.

“You look nice,” Seth said encouragingly as he drifted past with a tray of beers. Inez smiled after him, then looked up at the clock on the bar.

She tried not to notice that Ezra was late. Five minutes. Her eyes looked up at the stairs as she heard a floorboard creak.

Only one of her renters. He leered at her, and she glared back. Turning away, Inez leaned against the bar and drummed her fingers.

The clock ticked by, and outside the deepening gloom of dusk darkened the town. It would soon be nightfall. The knots in her stomach started to tighten unmercifully. What if she had been wrong about how he felt about her? What if he’d changed his mind? What if…. 

“Still not here?” Cherise asked quietly. Inez shot her an annoyed look, but Cherise just shrugged it off. “Listen, I’ve been here most of the day, and I have to say, I haven’t seen him since this morning when he went off with those men who attacked you. Maybe he’s at the jail? Or maybe something happened at the clinic. I mean, it is odd that he hasn’t been home even to change, don’t you think?” Her eyes were calm, understanding. It broke through the defensive barrier of anger that Inez had been building.

The manageress sighed, absorbing this information slowly. Finally, she nodded. Drawing the shawl about her shoulders, she stood up and thanked Cherise. 

“I’ll go check the jail,” she agreed.  
_______________________________________

When the sun hit the horizon, Ezra, Frank and Chet left the camp, moving out at a good clip back towards town. The whole time they’d been at this hiding place, Ezra had barely looked at JD, sitting dejectedly by his side until Frank had whistled that it was time to go. It terrified him—he'd never felt so alone. 

Paisley took the absence of his boss to sit down and groan, resting his head on his knees. The outlaw clearly still felt sick from the blow to his head, and the scars on his face kept ripping to drip blood every time he spoke. He already requested the chance "to kill that bitch at the bar" when this was over, but Frank had shot him down. Which was good.

Slim rubbed at his arm and took a sidelong glance at JD. “Warned me, eh?" he asked walking across to the kid. "How's this for a warning?” Before JD could answer, the outlaw delivered a swift blow with his foot to JD’s side, eliciting a cry of pain from the younger man. Slim knelt next to him, a sneer on his face. JD growled back, wishing he could hold his side with his hands. Slim laughed.

“You’d better pray I don’t get too impatient waiting for Frank, boy, or I may have to follow up my warning with a few more.” To punctuate the point, he smacked his hand as hard as he could across the boy’s face, drawing blood from a now split lip. “There.” Slim grinned. “That’s a start.” Still grinning, he got up and walked away, as JD tentatively touched his swelling lip with his tongue.

Closing his eyes, the kid leaned back against the rock, feeling the comforting weight of the derringer in his pocket. Fingers felt along the stone, seeking out a sharp bit. After a moment, he was rewarded by a somewhat jagged edge. 

Slowly, carefully, he started to worry the ropes around his wrists against the stone.

Ezra might have given up, but he sure as hell hadn't.  
_____________________________________

Vin sat up straighter in his saddle, peering out over the valley with a curious air. Seeing this, Chris slowed down, watching as Vin pulled out his spyglass.

“I can see Ezra down there,” the tracker said as he placed it to his eye.

“Really?” Though he trusted Vin most times, the gunslinger couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. Squinting, Chris could just make out the shadows of three riders moving along the valley base, but never in a million years could he discern one from the other.

“I recognize the shape of his swallowtail jacket…and the way he rides.” The tracker smiled. “Can’t tell who he’s with though. But…” The tracker paused, frowning. “He is riding nervous.”

“Nervous?” Chris leaned forward in the saddle.

“Stiff backed. Maybe we should find out why?”

Chris just nodded once and clicked his tongue, the large horse started forward quickly, moving into a gallop after only a minute despite how tired he was. In moments, they were halfway down the valley and easily visible to the men coming towards them.  
___________________________________________

Ezra tried not to react as he recognized the incoming riders, his mind tripping over the kiss lady luck had just given him. Or not. What if…what if his bad luck from Red Fork was still holding? Unwittingly, his mind started imagining dozens of terrible outcomes, all ending with his friends' blood all over the valley floor. Oh God, it was going to happen again. As soon as Frank and Chet recognized who--

“Ezra!” Chris called from still far away, clearly moving to intercept. "Stop!"

“Whoever they are,” Frank hissed at the gambler, “get rid of them! Or they're both dead!”

Ezra jerked. Frank's tiny smile suggested he believed that reaction to be one of fear—and Ezra almost laughed. He didn't know who they were. He didn't know who they _were!_ The barriers on his mind suddenly shattered into a thousand pieces, and everything roared back into focus--brighter, unfettered and sharp. If they didn't know who they were then…then….

Damn, he hadn't felt a rush like this in _weeks_. Options, names, ideas and words flew through his mind—now he just had to be fast enough to get it out before Chris or Vin screwed this up.

_This fluke's mine, JD. Now all I have to do is turn the coach around._

Chris pulled to a stop just before them, and Vin reined in beside him. The tracker raised a hand in greeting, but his face was not very welcoming as he looked upon Ezra’s companions. Frank offered a dark smile in return.

“Ezra,” Chris said, shifting in his saddle to place a hand on his hip above his gun. “What are you doin' out here?”

As Vin set his hand on his Mare's Leg as well, the gambler knew that Chris and Vin were reacting to his companions, and not to him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use it to his advantage. He offered Chris a sneer.

“I could ask the same of you, Lucas. Awful far from the ranch, aren’t you? Surprised your uncle doesn’t have you under lock and key after the last time my peacekeeping companions and I met up with you.”

Chris raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t react. After a short pause, he offered a smile. “There’s no rule that says we can’t be taking a ride, lawman, especially on our own land. And considering that you don’t got none of those peacekeepers with you, I wouldn’t be so quick to annoy me.”

“Are you blind, Lucas? I am riding with two such gentlemen as we speak. These men are deputies. And you, I’m surprised you don’t have your usual two cronies with you. Although I will admit…” He gave the taciturn Vin an acid look. “Mr. Spivak there is dangerous enough to be two men. I still don’t know how you escaped the hangman this long, sir.”

Vin huffed, eyes narrowing. “Just lucky I guess," he said quietly.

Ezra snorted. “Luck has nothing to do with it, Mr. Spivak, not when the James family is involved. Now, Lucas, why don’t you run along home before my friends and I teach you that it is not nice to interfere with a lawman going about his nightly duties? After all, won't Annie and your boy Hector be wondering where you are?”

Chris glowered at Ezra, and at the two men behind him, as if he were weighing his options. Slowly, his hand came away from his gun. 

“You win this time, Ezra. But, mark me, this isn’t over.”

“It never is, Lucas.”

“Come on, Del,” Chris said, looking to Vin. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” With a loud “Hyah!” Chris spurred his horse forward and up the other side of the valley. Vin stared at Ezra a second longer, then, without a word, spurred Peso forward to follow the black horse.

Frank snorted as the two men disappeared up over the ridge. “Make a lot of friends in your business, don’t you?”

“You said you wanted rid of them. That was the fastest way. Besides, they are enemies. Any other reaction from me would have seemed strange.” Ezra gestured towards Four Corners. “Now, shall we move on?”

Frank shook his head and slapped Ezra’s rented horse on its rump. The mare jumped and took off at a quick gait, Frank and Chet directly behind.  
_________________________________________________________

On top of the hill, Chris and Vin watched them leave.

“What the hell was that?” the tracker asked, looking to Chris.

"Something's obviously wrong." He glanced at Vin. "What names did he use again?"

"Lucas James, Del Spivak, Annie and Hector."

Chris's lips pursed. "Gotta be JD's in trouble." He looked back the way Ezra and the other two had been riding from. "Probably being held in the direction of the James Ranch, I reckon, which is why he told us to head that way."

Vin's eyes widened, the realization of what his also using Spivak's name might mean. "Shit, Chris, think JD's been shot?"

“I don't know. Maybe. I think he was just telling us that JD's in real danger."

The tracker's eyes narrowed. "So why's Ezra riding off with those other two? Why ain't he with JD?"

"These others are going with Ezra into town where, I would guess, they are going to use him to break into the bank."

Vin's jaw tensed, still not getting the connection. "Huh? How you figure that?" 

"Why else bring up Annie and Hector? It was JD trying to stop Hector when he was robbing the bank that got Annie killed."

Vin shut his eyes, retracing Ezra's words again, then nodded. At the same time, he caught something else Ezra had said. "He also said something about you…I mean Lucas…riding with two men. Lucas didn't always ride with two men. Why so specific? Think he meant--"

"Two men are guarding JD. Or that there are two more men back in town. Not sure which." Chris sighed, making a quick decision in his head. "Think you can follow their back trail to JD?”

Vin didn’t reply for a moment, until Chris turned a speculative glance his way. Breaking from his reverie, the tracker nodded. “Yeah, sure."

Chris nodded, picking up his horse's reins to hold them more tightly. “I’m going to go to watch Ezra’s back. You go rescue JD.”

Vin nodded slowly. “Fine. But how come you don’t want to take those two holding Ezra right now? We could easily get the drop on them.”

Chris frowned, the thought having crossed his mind several times already. “I don’t want to risk it. I don’t know how close we are to JD that those holding him might hear any gunshots and take the kid out. Plus, I think, had Ezra wanted us to help him, he would have told me. Instead, he specifically brought up Annie, as if to warn us that, if we try to stop him, someone will be hurt. Could be JD, could be someone else. There must be a reason for that.”

Vin stared up at the red and purple sky, licking his lips with his tongue. “Maybe,” he said quietly, wondering if Ezra didn’t ask for help for some other reason, namely that he didn’t want any. At the same time, a different thought popped into his head, and he looked at Chris. “I noticed you didn’t mention Buck as being part of Ezra’s code.”

“No. That’s the other reason I didn’t want to act too quickly. I don’t know why Buck isn’t here too.” Chris pursed his lips, his eyes hooded in worry. “Go after JD. I’ll meet you in town.” 

Vin nodded again as Chris rode away along the top of the ridge, moving fast in order to catch up with the men now disappearing in the distance. The tracker turned his mount around and headed down into the valley to follow the back trail. As he reached the bottom and started moving along the small stream, his mind couldn’t shake that last question….

Where was Buck?  
______________________________________

“Where is he?” Inez demanded, slamming her hands down on the wooden table in Digger Dan’s. Buck looked up startled, his red rimmed eyes confused.

“Where’s who?” he mumbled in reply.

“Where is Ezra, you poor excuse for a man? What have you done with him?” She stood up, placing her hands on her hips. Buck blinked, noticing the Mary-like dress Inez wore. She was all done up and looking _beautiful._

“Whoo whee!” he slurred, smiling up at her. "I like that dress." 

Inez’s face flared with anger, and, in one swift move, she grabbed the nearly full beer mug sitting in front of him and threw its contents in Buck’s face. 

“Hey! Whazzat fer?”

“Where is he? Huh? Do you know?” She tapped her foot, her eyes flashing.

Buck watched her for a second, her questions finally registering in his mind. Slowly, he lowered his eyes to the table, shame pouring out of him.

“He’s at the jail. Locked him in.” As if in proof, he pulled the jail’s keys out of his pocket.

“Locked him...?” Inez’s mouth fell open, though she quickly closed it again. “Well, he’s not there now. So where is he?”

Buck flinched slightly, and he turned confused eyes to Inez. “What?”

“I said, he’s not there. The jail is empty.” She frowned, her head tilting to the side. “Wait a minute…it was empty.” She looked confused, then her face opened up slightly. “Buck, did you not lock up those two men who were at the saloon this morning?”

Buck put a hand to his forehead, willing some clarity into his less than sober mind. “Where’s JD?” he whispered.

“He wasn't there either.” Inez voice had lost some of its edge. She rocked back suddenly as Buck erupted up out of his chair, nearly upending the table in front of him.

“Something’s wrong,” he mumbled, staggering as quickly as he could out of the bar. Pulling her shawl more tightly around her, Inez tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine and followed him.

Buck moved quickly, if a bit erratically, towards the jail and threw open the door. As Inez had said, it was empty. Anger and confusion throbbed in his skull as he reached for the desk and started ripping open drawers. Inez arrived to stand silhouetted in the doorway, watching him with a stoic expression.

Ripping open the bottom drawer, Buck grimaced as he found JD’s two colts and Ezra’s Remington resting inside, chambers empty. 

“You locked Ezra in?” Inez said quietly, her brown eyes regarding the cells in back. “Why didn’t he let himself out?”

Buck looked up sharply at the question, then turned to look at the cells. Making his way over, he knelt down to look at the lock on the first door. Sure enough, there were scratches in the black metal from a lock pick. 

“Did he…did he not want to have dinner with me?” Inez said from behind him, her voice strange. Buck frowned, still staring at the lock, then, with tremendous care, he turned to look at her. She looked oddly lost, her lips parted slightly with a nervousness he had never seen in her before, and, combined with the dress, it was almost as if she were a different woman.

“No, Inez. He wanted to have dinner with you. Something has happened to him and JD. I found their guns in the desk. Something to do with our missing inmates.” He stood up, sobriety returning as the seriousness of the situation hit him. Inez shut her eyes.

“So, what do we do?”

Buck shook his head. “You go home. I’m going to go talk to Josiah.”

“He’s asleep. I looked in there for Ezra before coming to find you. He and Nathan are both asleep. Senora Weathers is watching over them.”

“Okay,” Buck frowned, “well, I’m still going to go talk to him. But I think I’ll have a talk with Yosemite first. Somebody had to provide the horses to get these men out of here. And I’ll send some telegraphs to neighboring towns, see if anyone has seen them.”

“Can’t you…can you track them?”

Buck looked out at the nearly black street. In half an hour, it would be night. He sighed.

“No. Not until morning. I don’t have Vin’s skill to be able to track at night.” 

He was about to nod his farewell to her when she grabbed his arm, her dark eyes boring into his. "Buck, about...about Ezra and me…."

He lowered his eyes, shaking his head, "Not now, Inez. Let's make sure they're safe first." Pulling his arm from her grip, he walked away, leaving her standing in the street, her eyes shining.  
____________________________________

Vin left Peso near the forest edge, and crept in towards the clearing. He could smell the campfire and the sound of two men speaking quietly. One of them laughed. Taking advantage of the noise, Vin moved a bit quicker, stopping only when the laughter stopped. A few minutes later, he knelt down behind a tree and pulled his Winchester from the holster strapped to this thigh.

He could see JD, dried blood on his chin and a purple bruise on his forehead, watching the two men by the fire like a hawk. He could also see that the boy was working the ropes behind his back. Smiling, Vin watched as the boy suddenly jerked--his hands were free.

“All right, kid, make your move…,” Vin whispered, watching as JD reached around slowly to put his hand in his pocket. The two outlaws by the fire never noticed, and the one with the sling on his arm started laughing again.  
_______________________________________

JD tried not to smile as the sound covered his pulling back the hammer on Ezra’s derringer. Abruptly, he jumped to his feet, pointing the gun in the direction of the two men.

“Don’t move!” he yelled, rather pointlessly. Paisley instantly went for his gun, and JD shot him in the shoulder. Slim pulled his gun too, but before he could pull it up to aim, The loud bark of a Winchester rang through the clearing, spinning Slim around to fall on the ground next to his partner, holding his other arm. Slim started screaming wildly, while Paisley just lost consciousness – his body had had enough.

JD swung the tiny gun around, his eyes bright with bewilderment. 

“Now, don’t ya shoot me too kid!” Vin laughed, stepping out from behind his cover.

“Vin!” JD’s face cracked into a huge smile, then it fell. “Where’d you come from? Why aren’t you in Greeley? Where’s Chris? How did you find me? Oh my gosh, we have to help Ezra!” The rapid succession of unconnected thoughts that spilled from the kid’s lips had Vin shaking his head. At least JD was easier to understand than Ezra…just.

“Are you alright?” Vin asked slowly, his voice calm. JD took a deep breath, trying to mimic the tracker’s poise.

“Yes, but…Ezra, Vin, we have to help Ezra. He’s got two guys with him.”

“Yeah, I know. Are they and these the only ones?” Vin pointed in the direction of Slim and the sleeping Paisley. Slim was now sitting with his head between his knees, gripping his bleeding shoulder, completely unaware of anything but the pain. Small whimpers emitted from his throat.

JD wiped the blood from his chin, eyes watching Vin, “You know about them? Does that mean you got them already? Oh, thank--”

“No, not yet. Chris is tracking them. We didn’t want to stop them until we knew that you and whoever else they might be holding over Ezra were safe. What are they planning, kid?”

“To rob the bank. Ezra’s helping them because of me, and only me. The others are safe, for the moment. They don’t know anything.” JD shook his head, “Ezra’s really acting strange, Vin. Like he doesn’t care about what will happen to him if he succeeds. He gave me this.” He palmed the derringer to show Vin. “So I could have a chance. He has nothing to protect himself. They’ll kill him when they get what they want, I know it.” 

“Then we best make sure that he has protection,” Vin stated firmly. “In other words, us.”

“You have to trust in one of us to be there,” JD whispered, thinking on his conversation with Ezra at the jail. Vin looked at him curiously. Ignoring the questioning gaze, the kid turned to the two still very much alive outlaws.

“What about them?”

Vin looked at the two outlaws, his face dark. “Leave them for now. I think we need to get into town quickly. Just bind their wounds and tie ‘em to a couple of trees. We simply have to hope nothing too hungry comes along while we’re gone.” He gave Slim a feral smile when the outlaw tipped up his head to stare at him. 

JD nodded, and headed towards the two horses standing at the clearing edge. Vin kept his rifle up, though it seemed clear that neither Slim nor Paisley would put up a fight. 

“By the way, JD,” Vin said, watching as the kid pulled a shirt out of one of the outlaw’s saddlebags to use as a bandage, “What happened to Buck?”

“Don’t ask,” the kid replied, his voice tight with anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The references herein are to the episodes "One Day Out West," "Achilles" and "Ladykillers." Probably should have said that a couple of chapters ago as well, the first time I mentioned Annie, but...well.


	6. A Distraction and a Denoument

Buck sat in the clinic, his head in his hands. Nathan sat up in his bed, hands worrying at the blanket on his bed, while Josiah leaned against the windowsill. No one spoke.

“This is my fault,” Buck said eventually, his voice dead.

“I think…,” Josiah said quietly, staring out at the street below, “I think there has been entirely too much blame being worn in this town lately.”

“Josiah,” Buck said, looking up with damp eyes, “I’m so sorry. I know that Ezra's come to mean something--”

“Did you not hear what I just said, Buck?” Josiah flashed. “You taking on weight of guilt is not helping. Besides, how much Ezra means to me, or how much JD means to you is irrelevant right now. What we need to do is figure out what happened.”

“If you ask me, you both sort of treated Ezra badly. Just my opinion,” Nathan groused from his bed.

Two pairs of startled eyes turned to the healer. Josiah snorted.

“Well, if that isn’t the figurative pot calling the kettle--”

“I’m just saying--” 

“Hey!” Buck yelled, “Quit it!”

Nathan and Josiah glared at each other a second longer, before the preacher sighed. 

“Sorry, Nathan.”

“Just didn’t like you two intimating that I don’t care about Ezra or JD as much as you,” Nathan replied peevishly. 

This, of course, made Buck and Josiah feel even worse. Nathan couldn’t resist a small chuckle at their crestfallen faces. 

“We’re a pathetic group, aren’t we?” 

Josiah actually smiled at that, shaking his head. “In any case, as I said, what we need to do is figure out what happened.” 

“How?” Nathan asked, his brow furrowed. “According to Buck, no one saw anything.”

“I know,” Josiah sighed. “But there has to be something.” He picked up a candle from off the sill and blew it out. Moments later, he threw it across the room with so much force, it broke into several pieces. Both Nathan and Buck jumped.

“I hate feeling this helpless, damn it! Trapped in this damned room. If I’d just been able to go outside to find him today, like I wanted to…” 

Buck’s mouth fell open, having rarely seen Josiah get this angry. Nathan clicked his tongue, dark eyes focused squarely on the preacher.

“I thought you weren’t going to talk about fault any more, old friend,” the healer said calmly. Josiah glowered at him, but Nathan just raised his head. Eventually, Josiah lowered his gaze and slumped into the chair by the window, his hand playing with the bandages around his thigh. The leg throbbed, reminding him that putting weight on it for longer than a few minutes was a bad idea.

“Useless,” the preacher said. Nathan returned to picking away at the coarse blanket.

“Man,” Buck huffed, lowering his head to his hands again. “I wish Chris and Vin….”

A heavy knock at the door startled all of them, and Buck stood up to draw his gun. 

“Who’s there? What do you want?” Buck called.

“The usual,” a low voice growled, opening the door and letting in a powerful gust of wind that blew up the arrival’s black duster like raven’s wings. “I want your hide. But for now, we have a job to do.” Chris looked around the room at the surprised inhabitants and smiled thinly. “And, seeing as only two of us are actually mobile, I’d say we need a plan.”  
___________________________________

“Well?” Frank asked, watching as Chet looked up and down the dark main street of Four Corners again. They’d been waiting a while now, as the townsfolk slowly made their way to bed. The old man turned and smiled, gruesome teeth in full regalia. Both Ezra and Frank quickly averted their gaze.

“All clear, boss,” Chet said. “Not a soul on the street that looks like it would care ‘bout anything.”

“Magnifico,” Frank nodded. “All right, Ezra the lawman, let’s see your stuff.”

The gambler nodded, and moved to peek around the corner. Seeing no one, he slipped along the boardwalk and reached the door to the bank. In seconds, he had the door opened and was inside. Frank and Chet followed him in.

The older outlaw kept watch at the window as Ezra moved to the cell like vault in the back. He got through the doors quickly and then sat in front of the safe. For a moment, he simply closed his eyes, his memory imagining Mr. Wilson turning the combination. Taking a deep breath, he pictured the numbers in his mind and reached up to rotate the lock.

A resounding click echoed around the small room, and Ezra smiled.

“Well done,” Frank hissed. He handed Ezra a pair of saddlebags. “Fill them.” Dutifully, Ezra took them and did as he was told.

Chet peered out at the street, his eyes narrowing as he thought he caught some movement down the street. He watched the spot for a moment, and, sure enough, after a moment, he caught the movement again--someone was hiding down the alley opposite the bank.

“Boss!” he hissed.

Frank looked up. “What?”

“I think we have trouble. There is someone out there.”

Ezra looked up, his mouth opening slightly. Frank looked at him, his eyes black in the night of the bank. 

“Who is it?”

“I have no idea,” Ezra replied honestly. “I’ve been with you, remember?”

In two steps, Frank had rounded the corner and grabbed Ezra by the front of his shirt. “Who is it?”

“Maybe someone saw us,” Ezra tried weakly. “I can’t…I don’t….”

“Remember the deal, gambler! Anything happens to us, and that boy dies, you hear me? You will help us get out of here!”

“How? I don’t have a gun,” Ezra answered darkly.

"You got a mouth."

A tiny smile quirked on Ezra's lips. "I suppose so."

Frank glowered at him, then shoved him back into the wall. Grabbing the saddlebags that Ezra had filled, he threw one set over his shoulder and tossed the other to Chet. Then he gestured that Ezra should open the door and be the first to walk out. 

“Talk to whoever is out there. Explain to them the situation.”

Ezra swallowed, nodding. He walked to the door and opened it slowly. He took two steps out onto the boardwalk, lifting his hands up from his sides and stood facing the alley across the way.

“Buck,” he called to the seemingly empty street, “if that is you, you have to let these men with me go. If you don’t, JD’s life is forfeit.” 

No one answered. 

Ezra turned to look back into the jail, where Frank and Chet had rifles trained on him, though they themselves remained hidden from anyone outside the jail. This was not a good position. Frank shook his head, and cocked the rifle.

“Um…” Ezra shut his eyes and turned once more to the street. “Please, Buck. They have JD. If they do not return to where they have him hidden within the hour, the men there will kill him.”

“Are you sure we cannot get to JD before that happens, and save him?” Buck’s voice called. Ezra kept his eyes trained on the alley, as the voice had come from that direction.

“Starting as soon as it became fully dark, the two men guarding him are supposed to be on strict rotation, watching the valley that leads up to the place where they have him. They expect three riders to be coming back and Frank worked out a special signal to alert them of our return that he did not tell me. If that signal is not given, the man called Paisley has orders to take a knife to JD.”

“And how do you know JD is not already dead,” Buck’s voice asked again.

Ezra shivered. “I don’t,” he replied dejectedly. His shoulders slumped slightly in his jacket.

Buck didn't reply to the admission, and the silence on the street began to grow long.

“Gambler!” Frank hissed. Ezra jerked, as if he’d been asleep. He licked his lips and took in another deep breath.

“Buck, will you let us go? I need to know!”

“I’ll let you go,” Buck replied, stepping out from the shadows of the alleyway, guns holstered and hands raised.

"Tell him to toss his guns behind him into the alley!" Frank said.

"Buck, they want you unarmed! You have to throw your guns into the alley."

Buck frowned, but did as he was told, throwing his guns behind him. He then lifted his hands, his face a mask of anger. Ezra thanked him with a nod.

“Well done,” Frank whispered, grinning. Chet stepped out the bank first, the saddlebags on his shoulders and his rifle now pointed at the unarmed Buck. Frank followed just behind, and placed his gun against the back of the gambler’s head.

“We’ll be leaving now,” Frank said to Buck. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“No!” Inez yelled, pushing out the batwing doors to the saloon. She tripped a little in the skirts of a dress Ezra hadn't seen before, but it was the rifle in her hands that stole his breath away. “You let him go!” she demanded, raising the rifle up.

“Well, well, who is this?” Frank chuckled. Ezra stiffened, shaking his head in her direction, needing her not to get involved.

“Inez, no, not like that,” Buck hissed, taking a step towards here, his hands raised. Inez ignored him, trying to get around him.

“You let him go! You can’t have him, you understand? He’s mine!” She took several more steps forward, and before Buck could reach her, she shot wildly in the direction of the bank, causing all three men to duck quickly to the ground as it went over their heads.

“Inez, no!” Ezra yelled. Chet bounced up first and took aim, not caring that Buck had reached Inez and was wrestling with her for the gun. With a roar, Ezra jumped him, knocking the rifle from his hand and slamming the grizzled man into the sidewalk with a force strong enough to knock him out. Grabbing the rifle, he spun to turn it on Frank.

The younger outlaw, meanwhile, had also gathered himself up, but instead of raising his gun, he raised a hand at the gambler.

“I wouldn’t,” Frank hissed. “One move towards me, and that boy is dead, remember?” He bared his teeth in a gruesome smile, the perfectly straight whites seeming to Ezra as ugly as Chet’s hideous grin. The gambler’s hands shook, his whole body demanding he take this insolent bastard. Frank’s smile turned into a smirk as he watched Ezra falter.

"And you, lawman!" Frank shouted at Buck. "Toss that woman's rifle over here as well!"

Buck turned, rifle wrenched from Inez's grip in his hands. With a growl, he tossed it into the dirt in front of the bank's walkway.

Ezra huffed in relief, and turned back to Frank. 

"Now you," Frank said to him. "Put the rifle down, like a good boy."

Ezra nodded unhappily. Slowly, he reset Chet's rifle and placed it on the ground, then stood with his hands out from his sides and up. He heard Inez whimpered but he didn't dare look her way. In the background, the low rumble of hooves racing into town could be heard, the almost indiscernible sound only just now registering. 

“Good choice," Frank said. 

On the ground, Chet groaned, waking up. The older man blinked a few times, and then reached for the rifle Ezra had put down, scrabbling for the barrel with his claw-like fingers.

“Time to go, tin horn,” Frank said quietly. “Help Chet to his feet, and we’ll go to the horses. Understood?” 

Ezra lowered his eyes, his hands once more falling to his sides. Slowly, he reached down to gather up the older outlaw, grimacing to see the rifle back in the Chet's grip, though he was holding it by its barrel only.

The hoof beats got louder, until they couldn’t be ignored. Ezra was already facing the right direction, but Frank had to turn. 

In that split second, a massive grin creased Ezra’s face.

Frank never even knew what happened. With a roar, Ezra let go of Chet and jumped on Frank's back, driving him into the boardwalk. The outlaw twisted as Ezra pulled him around, grappling him onto his back, and then slammed his fist into the outlaw's face. Blood splurted from the man's nose and Frank bellowed in pain. Not caring, Ezra hit him again and again, until he'd knocked the bastard unconscious. 

The gunshot caused him to jump, half expecting to feel lead in his back. When no pain followed, he turned around in time to see Chet dropping his weapon like a hot poker and lifting his arms up over his head. 

Chris walked out of the alley, smiling grimly and shaking his head in warning at the older man, his smoking peacemaker trained on Chet's head. 

“Yee Ha!” Buck yelled, raising Inez’s rifle in the air. 

Ezra felt himself sway a little as he got up from Frank's body and stumbled forward to lean heavily against a post at the edge of the boardwalk. At the same time, the two incoming riders scrambled to a stop in front of him.

“Hey! I wanted to be the one to take them down!” JD yelled, pulling up hard on the rented horse’s reins. Ezra grinned up at the boy, relief shining from his face. 

“Just promise you'll never sell that hat,” the gambler said in return. "I love that hat!" Before he had even seen JD, Ezra had seen the shape of the bowler on the young man’s head as he and Vin rode up – and it was the best thing he'd seen all day. 

“I admit, the clothes you and Ezra wear are useful at times,” Chris agreed, walking forward and holstering his guns. “You alright, kid?” 

“Better than I was a few hours ago,” JD said. “Eh, Ezra?” 

"Yeah," was all he could manage. Still smiling, Ezra looked at Vin and nodded his thanks. The tracker nodded back. 

"Though he'd pretty much saved himself before I got there," Vin said.

"I don't doubt it," Ezra laughed.

"Oh you should've seen me," JD said then, the exuberant boy suddenly back in full force. "I was awesome! I managed to get free of my ropes using a rock, palmed your derringer in my hand, and then I just…Ezra?"

But the gambler had already stepped off the boardwalk, his eyes on Inez. She was arguing with Buck, clearly trying to go and get her rifle back, but Buck had grabbed it and was now holding it out of arm’s reach. 

“That wasn’t what I meant by a distraction!” he chastised.

“I did my best!” she snapped. “When I saw that man with a gun to his head I…” She stopped, as if suddenly aware that they were being watched. She turned slowly, her eyes catching Ezra's staring at her from a few feet away.

“Quite a distraction,” the gambler said to her quietly, not noticing that everyone else had also gone quiet. Vin sent a questioning gaze to JD, but the kid just shook his head. Buck, who had still been holding her arm, let go and backed away, his eyes staring at the ground. Ezra knew it was as much an apology as anything. Inez frowned nervously at Ezra.

“They said they needed a distraction, and since Josiah and Nathan couldn’t leave the clinic, Buck asked me,” she explained. “He told me that I should try to think of a way to delay you from leaving, to give Vin enough time to rescue JD and bring him here so that you would know he was safe.”

Ezra shook his head. “And he said to use the bar’s rifle?”

“No. Actually, he asked me not to bring a gun, in case they got the wrong idea and tried to shoot me. But I…I was going on instinct. I was afraid my words wouldn’t be enough.”

“Nearly got us killed,” Buck groused in a low rumble. Inez glanced at him, her face apologetic.

“Yes, I realize. The more I think on it…I’m sorry.” she lowered her head, her fingers playing at the folds of the dress, as if it were somehow to blame. “But once I made the decision to use it…I couldn't…and then everything happened so fast, and all I could think to do was hope that—”

“We got lucky,” Ezra finished quietly, stepping up close to her. She looked up, her eyes bright in the moonlight, and, after a moment, she nodded. Gently, he touched his fingers to her chin, tipping her head up.

“You know, querida, this was a very good day for luck,” he whispered, right before touching his lips to hers. 

In the background, Vin's jaw dropped, Chris shot a curious look at a still beaming JD, and Buck sighed, turning away. After a moment, he shrugged and smiled in the direction of the others. 

"Well hell, who's up for drinks and dinner? Inez is buying!"

Ezra felt Inez laugh as he deepened the kiss.  
_____________________________________

Epilogue  
____________________________________

Ezra took in a deep breath and adjusted the cravat around his neck for a third time in the mirror. Behind him, sitting on the edge of his bed, Buck, Vin and JD watched with great amusement.

“So how long before Inez figures out what a snob Ezra is?” Vin asked the others, his voice loud. Ezra threw him a glare.

“Oh, I’d say a week.” Buck grinned.

“You think they’ll last that long?” JD asked.

“I don’t know. I saw her sell that dress to that new seamstress yesterday, and I don’t think she plans on ever buying another like it,” Vin noted sagely. “She said it made her do foolish, girly things. But I’m not sure our Ez can be happy with a woman who doesn’t own something at least as frilly as the stuff he wears.”

“He could always lend her some of his own clothes,” JD piped up.

“Or maybe Maude could send her some things,” Buck suggested. Standing by the mirror, Ezra shivered at the thought. Vin caught the reaction and laughed.

“I think maybe we’re being a bit hard on him, Buck,” the tracker said. “After all, it is his first official dinner date with the lady in question.”

“Think it’ll go well?” Buck replied, arching an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, what do you think, JD?”

“Oh, I think he’s got a fighting chance. Ezra does like to go down swinging after all.”

“Gentlemen, please…” Ezra was getting tired of the ribbing. All he’d wanted was to get Josiah’s opinion on what to wear, but instead he got waylaid on his way to the clinic by this town’s version of the three Furies. They’d steered him home with promises of sincerity before he’d even reached the clinic stairs. 

“A fighting chance, you say. Well, with Inez, a fight is probably where they’ll end up. You ask me, they are too darn competitive about this saloon,” Buck said, ignoring Ezra’s warning tone.

“Competitive? Did you hear what he said to her last time she forgot to order his fancy scotch? I thought they were going to start a brawl! In fact, I would of wagered that she’d kick his keister all the way to Virginia she was so mad,” JD said brightly.

“Gentlemen!”

“But then, what’s that saying about lovers and fighters?” Vin asked, tapping his finger on his chin. JD grinned.

“What, that fighters make the best lovers?” 

“Oh, I’ll vouch for that!” Buck agreed. “Hell, that one I know from experience. But as to Ezra’s fighting stature, I gotta say boys, it pales next to mine. He’s not so much a fighter as…”

“…a double dealer?” JD suggested innocently. Ezra’s eyes widened.

“Gentlemen! I take offense--”

“And a swindler, a chiseler, and a rogue ,” Vin agreed, nodding. Ezra’s face reddened, his hands clenching into fists.

“Gentlemen! I am most certainly not going to listen--”

“Ah, but he’s ours,” Buck grinned, looking directly at Ezra for the first time, his voice softening. “And he looks pretty damn good for a popinjay.”

This shut Ezra up. Suddenly self-conscious, he frowned and looked down at the brushed dark blue suit and matching silver vest. He smoothed down a crease on the vest near the right pocket, feeling the money tucked in there and the slight stiffness of the metal pick sewed, once again, into the lining. 

“Yeah, you look good Ez,” JD said quietly. “Real good.”

“Do you…do you gentlemen…do you really believe that we will only last a week?” The gambler continued to stare downwards, not meeting anyone’s eyes.

“Hell no,” Vin said solemnly, standing up to pat Ezra on the back. “I got money down says you’re not going to last the night!”  
\----------------------------

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I place no wagers on how long Ezra and Inez will last. When I referenced them in a relationship after I wrote this, it was also fraught with relationship problems. I blame my rotating cast of boyfriends at the time.
> 
> I wrote this back in 2000, possibly 1999, when I was still in law school and I was making my friend Mariana read all my stories before I posted. I had about ten written before I had the balls to stick one up on fanfiction.net. One thing she complained about was that I always killed someone. So, when I wrote this, the last thing I put on the page was "Look, Mariana, no one died!" And look, it's still true! :)


End file.
